Confessions of a Grandma

Underhill is a small town nestled against our small town of Jericho.  Some years ago the United Church of Underhill started their Harvest Market on the last weekend of September.  There were crafts made by church members, a cookie factory, and a sale in the "Clutter Barn."  It grew.  And grew.  It has become quite the event and an autumn destination. I went early.  They kept on coming. The line for French fries developed way before lunchtime. We left when it became too crowded. It was refreshing to stand and just look at this view from the edge of town.

Last week I went to a nearby Farmers' Market and bought red and golden beets, fennel, and a sweet onion.  I roasted the beets with olive oil and rosemary from my own herb patch and put them in a salad with wheat berries, walnuts, feta, the fennel, and the onion.  Another cooking adventure that fed me for a week. I made a batch of homemade chicken noodle soup with green beans and fresh carrots, too. Variety is important, too, not just convenience. Of course, wouldn't you know it, the day my neighbor popped over to find out what I was having for supper I was having a bowl of cereal.

My garden has been neglected these past couple of months, but it carried on, doing what gardens do and providing me with moments of gratitude for its waiting gifts today. My dining table, in the front window, at my bedside.

Vermont seems to be pulling out all the stops this year and giving us the kind of autumn it is known for--bright colors popping out on the trees, cool nights, and brilliant blue sky. It doesn't seem fair that Mike isn't here to enjoy it...not to mention be here to help me button up the house before winter.  Let me tell you, this grieving thing is just plain hard.  And it hurts. I've heard about the Kubler-Ross stages of grieving.  I wish there were stages, that this could be a step-by-step process.  I wish that I could check off "denial" and "anger"--check, check, check, check--move on to "acceptance" already.  It doesn't seem to work like that.  It is more like a roiling pot of all those emotions burning in the center of me and I never do know which one is going to bubble to the surface or when. And then there are times when I feel okay.  I am doing my normal things--writing or making cards or sewing,  reading or watching something o...

Mike and I considered ourselves soul mates, but we definitely were not culinary mates.  Mike liked what he liked and disliked what he disliked and he never changed his mind about things like that.  He did not eat mayonnaise.  He did not eat tomato sauce.  He did not eat cooked vegetables except for corn, peas and green beans.  He did not eat onions cooked or otherwise.  He did not eat casseroles ever since they were a combination of things he didn't eat anyway. I did not like mushrooms as a kid and eggplant just made me gag, but my tastes changed,  Foods I found disgusting as a child are now among my favorites--mushrooms, eggplant, avocados, asparagus, eggs, spinach, brussel sprouts, herbs and spices. I will admit that I never developed a taste for liver (nor do I want to). I made this Moussakka a while ago and ate it every day for a week.  I froze half of it but ended up thawing it out right away. It consists of sliced eggplant layered...

September is a month of numerous birthdays in my family.  Mike's birthday was in September.  My mother's birthday was in September.  A niece, a nephew, a step grand daughter, and a grand nephew (great nephew??) all have birthdays in September.  I have not been so great about getting cards out in honor of the various celebrations, but I did manage to make a couple. One for my baby sister. One for her youngest. 60 and 30.

Every one says to give myself time to grieve.  I don't see that I even have a choice in the matter.  It is a process and there are no short cuts.  It is one day at a time and baby steps along the way.  Heartache and missing Mike are my new reality.  Well, a part of my new reality.  In the meantime, I am left to go on with life and figure out my way in the world.  Some things--often unexpectedly--are hard.  Other times--often unexpectedly--I find a well of strength I maybe had not appreciated before. My friend Ginnie calls often to ask in a most supportive way, "What did you do today?  What do you plan to do tomorrow?"  At first it was the many details of death that took up the "just one thing I can do today."  Basic things like brushing my teeth and washing my face felt like accomplishments.  I cleaned the house as a way to lovingly touch all of Mike's things.   I even dusted his tool chest and his work bench in the gara...

I consider myself fortunate to have the support of friends and family through a difficult time.  My lawn has been mowed by neighbors.   Flowers from talented gardeners were brought to cheer me at home and to decorate the community center for the celebration of life and memorial service.  Cards arrived everyday for three weeks.  I have been fed.  My friend Ginnie has done way more than her share by feeding out of town family, including two teenage boys and a 21 year old.  That's a lot of lasagna and macaroni and cheese!  (I kept her zucchini casserole for myself though.)  She helped me put together the photo display and picked up the cake and delivered it, too.  Maggie brought quiche and wine. My friend Donna sent a gift card for pizza while Mike was still in the hospital and made a pasta salad for Saturday.  Carl and Ellie supplied chicken and biscuits and homemade chocolate chip cookies.  Mary Jane introduced me to Ben and Jerry...

I have to believe in angels watching over us and that those angels are the people who loved us during their time on earth. Yesterday I read blogs in the morning.  On GigiHawaii ,  I saw a link to the site for Leigh Ann Phillips , a new age sound healer.  I had been thinking when I woke up about what music to use at Mike's celebration of li on Saturday.  There was a review of Phillip's latest album,   Mik'ael, on that site.  Now, know that Mike would not willingly listen to more than three seconds of new age music, but when we did our advanced directives a few years ago, we talked about the fact that services after a death were for remembering the loved one and  for providing comfort to the family. " Mik'ael"?   Is it the comedian Jeff Foxworthy that says, "There's your sign!"? Later in the morning,  I had a call from a friend of Mike's from Minnesota.   I recognized the caller ID and assumed it was a condolence call, but as it h...

There is nothing like a visit from the grand children to remind one that life goes on.  I spent Friday night at my daughter's and then brought the kids back home with me.  I did not get to see so much of them this past summer and it was a birthday gift to my daughter (who just turned 40!) to have a couple of days to herself. She probably spent them in her son's room playing Lego StarWars.  Dane tried to teach me how to play this video game--a hopeless task if ever there was one.  "Concentrate, Grandma!  You have to concentrate!"  I do have a hard time with sustained concentration lately, but in this case I had no clue what it was that needed concentration.  He finally took the controls away from me (thank-you!). It's amazing how long he can amuse himself at my house being out side on a scooter or helping me in the yard, especially if it involves a hose.  Inside, they both sit and draw or craft for hours.  Just before bed, Dane did say, "N...