Skillful Creamery

I remember when my sister Mara went off to college. My mother sent her fun little post cards. The one that stands out the most was shaped like an actually shaped like a snail in it's shell. It was awesome.
When I started as a teacher I got a really awesome letter from Ms. Frizzle and Liz (think the Magi School Bus Series). She sent me a pair of pants that teachers like the Frizz might wear when teaching about fish, and a fabulous letter with many phrases often found in the books. It was inspirational and charming.

Posted by Rae at 7:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

This Saturday we hosted an early Thanksgiving dinner. I roasted a Turkey, made something like 12 pounds of mashed potatoes, and baked a pumpkin pie. As I prepared the pie and potatoes I was thuroughly enjoying the fun of cooking. When I started the turkey I was taken back to all the times I helped my mother roast the Turkey for Thanksgiving. We would share space at the kitchen sink, rinse the turkey in cold water, pat it inside and out with a paper towl, and salt it. Holding the defrosted bird in the sink brought a surge of nostalgia for cooking with my mother. I seperated the skin from the meat and rubbed butter on the inside of the bird, placing fresh thyme and rosemary along with the butter.

I have been planning to start to write on my blog in December as an homage to my mother's decline in health and the time we spent as a family taking care of her. But I realize as we approach Thanksgiving that this was really the beginning of her decline. She took off from work and was unable to return. I felt like yesterday's early celebration was in a way a celebration of the things my mother taught me in the kitchen. Sort of like a little offering in her memory.

Posted by Rae at 11:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

We have moved into our new home. I'm spending my time e-mailing and visiting schools in the hopes of substituting my way into a teaching position. The people here have been so friendly - both on the street and in the schools I've visited- I had forgotten that people are good (in general); I suppose that's not suprising considering my recent history with teachign and my run in with theives in Argentina. I miss D.C. - Alexandria really- the farmers markets, downtown, biking the GW Parkway trail, and most importantly all of my friends - my DC family.

I have made some friends here, we have a built in social network through Eric's department. Plus Alana is here and My cousins are nearby as well. I am significantly closer to my dad and sister.
The town has character and I like it. It seems that I will be able to substitute close to home easily - and hopefully often.

From my back windows - in the reading room, bathroom, kitchen and dining room I have a view of the funeral home next door. I see the families dressed in sombre attire, the hearse, the parade of cars with flags, the street parking meters covered - reserved for the funeral. They seem to host a funeral every few days. Infrequently enough that I am not overwhelmed by death in Pittsburgh. Often enough for death to remain my companion. I am drawn to the funeral home. But what would I say? I've thought it over many times but don't get any farther than "My mother died in January..." I want to crash a funeral - What do other funerals look like? How do other people grieve? Who is dying , and why? The question that haunts me "Why am I dying?" And the pragmatic answer that haunts me too, "You have cancer." Haunts me because it is true, and yet a meaningless answer.

On the plus side I can sleep with my closet door open these days . This is progress.

Posted by Rae at 9:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Southern male voice: I met this woman the other day and I asks her, where y'all from? and she says "I am from a place where we don't end our sentences in propositions." So I says to her "Where y'all from, bitch?"

Posted by Rae at 10:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

So- I thought I was dealing well with my mother's death. I came home and felt really good about taking care of her. I felt- and still do - an inner strength that came from caring for my mother.

But I've got hives. I'm not allergic to anything. I'm just stressed. My body is dealing with what my mind cannot. Of course- having hives adds to the stress. It's circular.

Last night an ambulance hit my parked car. It wasn't the prius. That just can't drive in the snow, especially on hills. Which means I'm forced to stay overnight at work whenever there is accumulation. Fortunately my employer is an avid reader and I'm able to entertain myself.

Posted by Rae at 3:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My mother played games with us. She took us to parks, libraries and museums. She had a rule that homework was to be done before we played.
She saw that we brushed our teeth, said our prayers, and had a good nights sleep. She taught us how to clean and how to cook. We grew fresh vegetables and fruit, and made delicious pies together
As my siblings, my in laws, my father and I came together to care for my mother- signs of my mother's influence were abundant. We drank tea constantly. We ate meals together. When we asked for the help of friends and family- we asked for a good healthy meal, with vegetables. Fortunately people brought dessert as well. We took care of each other while we took care of her.
In her last days I told my mother that I would miss her. She touched my shoulder and replied, "You will carry me with you." As struggle to wrap my brain around the fact that my mother is really dead, I am reminded of the many things she did or valued that will carry on with us in the years to come.
She encouraged us to go to college.She continued to develop her mind through art and continued education. She thought it was important to vote, and to write thank you notes. She enjoyed classical music and listened to NPR. She spent money wisely; took milk in her tea; and traveled when she could.
She was my mother, and my friend.
She is my gaurdian.

Posted by Rae at 3:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My mother passed away at approximately 2 am this morning.

It was very peaceful. We washed her body with rose water and sewed a silk shroud around her body. It is a beautiful tradition that gave us all a calm feeling as we were struggling to fathom the reality of our loss.

Posted by Rae at 7:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)