But for a madeleine ....
Remembrance of Things Past, Proust
But when from a long-distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, taste and smell alone, more fragile but more enduring, more unsubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, remain poised a long time, like souls, remembering, waiting, hoping, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unflinchingly, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection.
A very dear friend of mine lost her dad this past week. He was 58. It was a shock to the entire family, to all of us.
I lost my own mother several years ago. I remember afterwards that it was comforting when others brought food to us, so that we had one less thing to think of as we mourned. As we tried to picked up pieces, called insurance companies, tried to carry on. As we tried to make sense of it all, when there is no sense at all.
I'm cooking for my friend today, since I don't know what else to do. I'm making a double-batch of my mom's meatballs with thick, hearty ragu. I'll freeze some baked zitis to put in my friend's mom's freezer if she wishes. I'll try to fill their stomachs to help fill the huge holes in their souls.
I lost my mom two years before I got married. During our honeymoon, I mourned losing her all over again - sadness in the midst of my immense happiness of starting a new life with Big Daddy. We honeymooned in Italy, with a stop in Florence. I ordered a dish in Florence, a wild boar ragu, that instantly brought me back to my mom's dinner table. Tears welled in my eyes, my mom's joy filled my heart. All in that taste, that experience. Just like a madeleine, I recalled from my high school literature classes.
Of all of the things that I share with my friends, I never thought that the pain of losing a parent at a young age would be one of them. I pray with all of my heart that my friend finds comfort and strength to get through these days ahead. I can only hope that a bit of food will also comfort, to soothe in forgeting for a minute and spurs memories of times past.
But when from a long-distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, taste and smell alone, more fragile but more enduring, more unsubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, remain poised a long time, like souls, remembering, waiting, hoping, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unflinchingly, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection.
A very dear friend of mine lost her dad this past week. He was 58. It was a shock to the entire family, to all of us.
I lost my own mother several years ago. I remember afterwards that it was comforting when others brought food to us, so that we had one less thing to think of as we mourned. As we tried to picked up pieces, called insurance companies, tried to carry on. As we tried to make sense of it all, when there is no sense at all.
I'm cooking for my friend today, since I don't know what else to do. I'm making a double-batch of my mom's meatballs with thick, hearty ragu. I'll freeze some baked zitis to put in my friend's mom's freezer if she wishes. I'll try to fill their stomachs to help fill the huge holes in their souls.
I lost my mom two years before I got married. During our honeymoon, I mourned losing her all over again - sadness in the midst of my immense happiness of starting a new life with Big Daddy. We honeymooned in Italy, with a stop in Florence. I ordered a dish in Florence, a wild boar ragu, that instantly brought me back to my mom's dinner table. Tears welled in my eyes, my mom's joy filled my heart. All in that taste, that experience. Just like a madeleine, I recalled from my high school literature classes.
Of all of the things that I share with my friends, I never thought that the pain of losing a parent at a young age would be one of them. I pray with all of my heart that my friend finds comfort and strength to get through these days ahead. I can only hope that a bit of food will also comfort, to soothe in forgeting for a minute and spurs memories of times past.
posted by Counting_Blessings | 9:08 AM
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