My family began saying goodbye to my mother some years ago, as Alzheimer's Disease robbed her of her abilities and skills, and slowly stole her away from us.
Mama -- our extraordinary mother, my father's extraordinary wife -- left us early last Tuesday morning.
I'm not back to blogging yet, so I'm re-posting an old story. I've got to go put together meat loaf soon -- my Dad and my sister and her family are coming to That Old House for dinner this evening -- a plain family meal after all the restaurant and catered fare this past week.
We are not yet ready to give up our daily family gatherings, although they are getting smaller. On Friday, my brothers, my sister, their spouses, and a more than half of mama's grandchildren gathered here at That Old House to assemble picture collages of Mom, and share a cold lunch. There was much laughing, a lot of stories, a little crying. Between visiting hours at the funeral home, we gathered at That Old House again, 22 of us, for lasagna and some catch-our-breath time. Yesterday, after a beautiful church service, my father hosted 60 family and friends for lunch at a local restaurant, to celebrate my mother's wonderful life.
I will miss her every day; however, I am just beginning to realize how grateful I am that she is no longer suffering, but is restored and beyond the hurts of this human life. When I think of her now, I don't think of her as she was these past few sad years, but as she used to be -- funny and vibrant and energetic, and nearly always with my father, or with some adoring children.
As my mother used to say, "Thank you, Jesus."
************************************************************************
I am joining Chari's of Happy To Design for her Sunday Favorites blog party, and re-posting a story from September 18, 2009. Please join our hostess for more stories! Just click on the logo, below, to do so.
Just click the button,
and see
what others are writing
about today!
No, not really, but it is a nickname.
My Grandmother, born in 1875, was named Catherine.
My Mother, born in 1921, is named Catherine.
I, born in (mumble mumble mumble cough), am also named Catherine.
It was inevitable that I should get a few things handed down to me from
both of The Catherines. One is the ability to carry a tune pretty darned well.
Others -- a love of books and language, some skills in hand work, and a great deal of child-rearing wisdom that Howard and I embraced. It must have been excellent advice; our daughters are not in jail. Although I haven't spoken to either of them yet today. . . .
Another legacy is a recipe for applesauce; it dates from the days when people
used all the parts of a pig except the oink; it is that thrifty.
and lessons on how to think like a child. I'm sharing my Grandmother Catherine's tea set.
When I was a very small child, my Mama kept this set on the low coffee table in the living room.
We could look at it, but not touch.
I was very young when I asked if I could have it and my mother answered,
"When you get married."
I think she even meant it.
It's not valuable, except to me. It is 1881 Rogers Quadruple Plate, Pattern 5014.
Does anyone have access to a good book on silverplated holloware?
I hope, if a Genie ever pops out, that he does windows, pulls weeds, and empties the dishwasher.
Them's my three wishes.
so I'm going to segue smoothly right into The Applesauce.
Take some apples. Any apples. Drops, bruised, or perfect, any variety. Wash them well, making sure to get into that dusty place around the stem, where the apple's belly button lint lurks.
Next, put them in a bowl and briefly admire how nice they look with drops of water artistically clinging to them.
Just cut them up, and plop them into a nice big stockpot.
You pretty much want to steam the apples;
you don't want them boiling and bobbling around in liquid.
the food mill.
If you don't have a food mill, toddle off to your nearest
old-fashioned hardware store and buy one for a very low price.
You don't need a pricey fancy one from some la-di-dah cookware website.
A plain old aluminum one works just fine.
left in the food mill, that you can just toss out.
No waste. You can sweeten or add cinnamon if you must; I usually don't.
These apples were little MacIntoshes from a New Jersey orchard; I took my Dad there yesterday as he was jonesing for some late summer peaches. I also bought some fabulous eating apples at this orchard, bred specially for New Jersey.
You wanna piece of ME?" . . . you can truthfully answer, "Why, yes, I do.")
So . . . if you visited That Old House yesterday, and are desperately hungry because there was no food on the tablescaped table, this is your little midday meal:
putting the food down at dinner to feed her family of NINE,
"Well, that's all there is, and what are you going to do about it?"
Remember the table is set in the conservatory.
*************************************************************************
P.S. Illustrated Note to Self: When cooking on a stove, it helps to turn on the burner that is actually underneath the pot. It takes too long otherwise . . . .
Yes, I really did that. Doh!*****************************************************************************
Well, I don't do that anymore; in November we replaced the electric stovetop with gas!
Many thanks to those who have left such kind and sweet comments on my last post about my Mother, or who have written privately to me. I am really touched, and it is so very comforting to know you are there, and thinking of us. God bless you all -- and thanks. -- Cass
0 comments:
Post a Comment