Saturday, September 25, 2010

Quiet Mornings

Today's post doesn't have anything to do with food, well not much really. It has been a difficult summer as my mom struggled through her end days with cancer and so much of our typical routine had been altered. Our days and nights revolved around meeting her needs for sustenance and I learned that the human body can live for six weeks on a diet of canned peaches and jello. I have a new found respect for the strength of the human will.

And now that her struggle is over, Gerry and I work to find our new normal in a house now missing one important member. It starts slow. We now have to re-figure our portion control for the dinners she used to share with us. We go for dinner just the two of us (final son living in the house has a complete life of his own). I have started thinking about future things again; a course I am taking that starts in a month; a possible weekend getaway to help heal our still sensitive hearts; and really spending time together. It all seems very odd.

As I look around, flowers sent by friends who supported us through this are still lovely and remind me of the life of my mother. It was she who taught me the importance of providing for my family; how to can, smoke, jam, or otherwise preserve summer's bounty for the darker, colder months. It was an ultimate gratification that it was my canned peaches that really sustained her during the last weeks of her life. It was a gift she shared with me that I in turn shared back.

Life has changed irrevocably here but not all in bad ways. And there is still the imprint of her life, her beliefs, and her energy in everything in the house....the pickles we eat on our cheeseplate, her angels tucked in around the flowers and plants of the house, and the cookbooks that sit in my bookshelf all remind me of her.

So here in the quietness of a Saturday morning, I find that I am more grateful than sad. And I look forward to life.