This blog, for me, has always just been a fun thing, a way to write something with no pressure and an incentive to try more foods. It started out as a project among friends…friends of whom I now see very little or none at all…and sort of grew into my thing. Last summer I was chugging along, enjoying life, and I’d still consider it one of the happiest of my life, up to a point. Writing here was part of that. But I’ve always picked up and put down here whenever I felt like it. Perhaps not good if you want to get a following, but this place was only ever for my own amusement really. It’s not my living, I don’t have an audience. And it shows.
So obviously in fall things were going on, I got busy with family and life. We knew we would lose my grandma and just tried to make everything go the best we could for her. I think we succeeded. While Christmas was completely not normal, for us I don’t think there’s ever been one with more love. But it had to end in grief and of course it did. Sometimes emotions are hard for me to unleash. So we had a lovely service for her, and I went about without unclenching much. The second weekend after the funeral, I was at my boyfriend’s place, drinking tea, feeling like, “okay, I can start to mourn now and think about her and let myself be sad.” A gentle grieving process.
Then I glanced at my phone and saw about four missed calls from my dad.
When I called back, I can remember the conversation very well – but my memory places either one of my parents in it about equally. I guess I just remember the tone. Whichever parent it really was said my name, then, “Your Uncle John called, we’re headed to the Mews now -” where my other grandmother lived. I can still hear my own voice, sharp and too loud, asking, “Oh god, is Mom-Mom dead too?”
She wasn’t – not that day, but about four days later. Her memory had been gone for years, and losing her was really a decade-long process, if I’m being honest. But it didn’t make watching it happen any easier in the moment. She was special too.
So it’s not that I’ve been weeping and wailing all this time, and I’m too much of a delicate flower to Blog While Sad. I don’t want to pretend like I’m a special snowflake here and my grieving is just So Epic and that kind of stuff. I know this is how it works, and grandparents are old and they pass away. But it did a number on us and especially my own parents. So food and so forth seemed awfully trivial and unimportant.
And, you know, when you find yourself about to read the eulogy you’ve prepared for your second grandmother in under three weeks, maybe it takes some of the fun out of writing for a while. Months even. Who would ever guess?
But lately I’ve been missing it, and feeling like I have things to say or phrases I want to use. Possibly it’s that we are in prime sauce-making and zucchini-using time and it reminds me how much I like both food and writing about food.
So while I can’t say for sure what anything means for the future, I guess I’m ready to come back out from under the blanket now.
Today commences the annual baking of the biscuits. To be specific, the zucchini-cheddar biscuits. More eating, less getting gored by bulls.