I'm not 100%, but I'm here.
A few of you may have noticed that I fell off the face of the earth in mid-January. I had planned on cutting back on my FJ time to try and get some home improvement projects finished before a mid-May deadline, but not to go away completely. I was planning out what projects were most important to have finished, and then all Hell broke loose.
My Mother unexpectedly died, and I'm one of those who needs something physical to do while I grieve, so I've been busy cooking, baking, and working on our house. Baseboards don't complain if you rip them off the wall and yell obscenities as you throw them across the room. The walls don't mind when you throw a rolling pin at them because pie crust doesn't come easy for you. Salespeople, on the other hand, get a wee bit testy if you scream at them to get off your porch and direct them to have intimate relations with rusty farm equipment.
I'm working my way through the "firsts" as the calendar works it's way through the year. Special days come and go for the first time with no phone call or card from or to my Mother to mark the occasion. No more wondering what to buy her for her birthday, Mother's Day, or Christmas. No more mischievous grins as I ask if she liked the case of toilet paper I sent her.
No more discussions of holiday menus or her reminding me that her favorite times were back when her family would drive out to West Texas to see us, and she was cooking for a whole house full of family and friends. Her mobility had decreased over the last few years to where she could no longer stand long enough to cook like that, so I always offered to cook or help cook when I went to see her so she could once again feed a house full of people.
I'm the only one left who knows how to make some of her recipes. When I went back for the funeral, I ended up giving an impromptu chicken fried steak lesson the evening after we buried her. My family is very food-focused, and it was something I could do to help keep those traditions alive and show my appreciation to the relatives who put us up while we were there. We went back again last month to see her headstone, and I made more chicken fried steak, and gave another lesson on how to make her tacos. When we left, there were enough leftovers to last at least three days.
I think Mom would have approved.
- 7
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