Our brand new grandson was born into our family this past week, after which my son-in-law named it “Birthday Week,” not only for the fact of his own birthday and that of his newborn son, but also because we celebrated the first birthday of the infant’s newly promoted big sister! Birthday week!! In celebration of this newly expanded family, the week basically consisted of one wonderful meal after the next, all of which reminded me of a post that I wrote once upon a time about the meals at my parents’ small farm in the Watchung Mountains of New Jersey. The years have passed, and my own parents are gone now, but all our beautiful babies have been named in memory of my mother and father, and that has been a gift of its own. Continue reading
Category Archives: Neighbors
How to Make a Life
Connie and her husband Duane were my parents’ closest of friends for upwards of 40 years. They drove to Cleveland from their home in the hills of northwest New Jersey to crawl into bed with my father in his last days, to whisper their love for him, to share some memories, and to be, as always, the best friends they could be. My parents shared thousands and thousands and thousands of memories with Connie and Duane throughout the years. Their shared love for their Afghan hounds and Belgian sheepdogs, their joyful July 4th celebrations, hundreds and hundreds of weekly Sunday dinners, restaurant meals, New Years Eve parties, Thanksgiving graces, glasses of light red Beaujolais, local and national dog shows, chaffeuring one other, Zooming together, housesitting, and endless games of Trivial Pursuit. How do you make a life? How do friends and neighbors become transformed into family? This is how. Continue reading
Love Thy Neighbors
It hardly feels adequate to say that my friends and neighbors took over for a few days a couple of weeks ago when the truth is that they swooped in with food, soups, bread, hand sanitizer, and essential oils, not to mention apple-ginger muffins wrapped in handmade dish towels (recipe below). There were many hugs and nods of understanding, for these were the people who knew and appreciated my dad in his last days, stopping by with quarts of homemade chicken noodle soup, doing reiki treatments for the sheer generosity of it, and bringing pans of chicken and rice, my dad’s favorite chopped salad, fish and stewed tomatoes, and more. Nothing escaped their caring eyes. Continue reading