Skip to main content

seasons in the sun

"good-bye my friend it's hard to die, when all the bird's are singing in the sky, now that the spring is in the air..."

My 70's childhood ran the soundtrack yesterday. Edited to add that I don't think that song is the least bit appropriate for an almost 93 year old woman dying. But my brain didn't agree. I was cleaning, no - more like attacking - the house yesterday. I dumped the books off the bookshelf in the family room and was putting everything back nice and neat. Need for order when life goes too far beyond my control. On 9/11 I remember cleaning the base boards for hours.

To the casual observer, the house was ransacked by some crazy woman. When Sandra called for me to come now, but to drive carefully, I thought "I can't. The house is a mess." Perhaps my way avoid the inevitable. I was in the shower when Kim called to tell me firmly that I should get going. Coordinating the whole thing from Arizona.

So, I raced a thunderstorm. Numb, no thoughts just that damn song running incessantly in my head. Feeling the need for tears but unable to cry. Tried to prepare the girls a little bit. They were fine once they knew that Brad & Leah would be there. Vince and Caitlin were coming home from Uniontown, stuck in rush hour traffic and racing the same storm.

When I got on Route 50, the girls started double daring the skattered raindrops "Is that all you can do? That's a sprinkle! Let's see some RAIN!" As I turned up the hill, the scent of wild onions, Pappa's wild onions that we used to stop and pick, hit me and the tears started. I passed the cemetary and the tears flowed. We pulled into the drive and raced to the door with the storm at our backs.

I arrived at 4:20 and she passed at 4:55. When I said that I knew Pappa was there as I'd smelled the wild onions passing the cemetary - she gave such a deep ragged breath that I jumped.

She was always terrified of lightening and thunder, but they gave her passing some real drama. Lightening, thunder, generators blowing, awnings flapping, torrential rain, power outage. She passed in the dusk with the back-up oxygen. Her breathing went from the ragged breaths to what I've read described as the death rattle and I know why. I hope to never hear it again and was suddenly thankful that Vince wouldn't hear that sound. She passed with her family at her side, in her bedroom, as we said the Hail Mary and Lord's Prayer. It was peaceful and quiet, she didn't struggle and looked at peace.

Mae Marie Monaco. My grandmother. Rest in peace.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

You be mine

I am seriously in love with this stack of vintage pretties.  My favorite is this quaint hankie!!

 Flea market find. All mine.  For - drum roll - $10!  An entire Marshall's shopping bag full. Luckily my partner in crime has eagle eyes for boxes of neglected old stuff.  Stay tuned to see what they become later!!

Omgosh Vegan Banana Cake

So. I have been MIA for almost an entire year in blog days.  I can hear the crickets. Nah, even they have left the building.  But, I am not a quitter.  Regardless of what you may have heard!  So I am back with a mission. I want to capture my recipes here. Yawn. I know. Food blog so 5 years ago.  But, it is for me. So I can have an actual record of my successful vegan offerings. I know. Vegan.  Yuck. Right?  How did that happen?  One daughter with a soul for kindness and ethical treatment of animals.  The rest of us are just vegetarians.  We are shamefully consuming butter, eggs and cheese. Not often. Just enough to gorge ourselves with our favorite pizza. And cookies. So the vegan child doesn't waste away to her birth weight, I am on a mission to redo our recipes into really good vegan offerings.  So. Warm from the oven on a brisk Autumn eve, banana cake.

It is a yummy first attempt.  I can't believe I am saying this but I will cut the sugar next time.  Crazy, huh?  I didn…

Pretty in pink...

Cotton shirts.  Love 'em. Usually can't wear 'em.  Too tight. Pull at the boobs.  Or, shrink in the first wash.  And being a plus size gal, I need some softness and movement to keep an illusion of me.  Reality in a stiff button up, not so pretty. So, an old linens table cloth, so soft. Nicely torn for texture. And an old soft lace cafe curtain.

Stella, my model, is asymmetrical so it appears wonky.