February can be a bleak month and this year my February included a memorial service. Tears of sadness and joy for a life well lived offer a testimony to God’s love and faithfulness, but the stark truth of going on without someone you are used to going on with changes how you take each next step. Every day something is missing and that something is never coming back. Well wishers offer words of hope, mac and cheese, tissues and hugs, but life is never going back to the way it was. One look out my February window and I understand how bleak and barren the world feels in the aftermath of death and loss.
If I were to reside only in February the barrenness would overwhelm me. Even as my rosebushes seem to be yearning for springtime sunshine and showers, I need to allow for the passage of time and season to enervate my soul and enliven my step. I need to be willing to step beyond February into March, and April and May. I need to learn how to pull strength from what was before to enable new growth to occur once the shock of winter has passed. Thank God for the promise of spring.
Two of my grandchildren have helped me begin to understand this process better. In a span of two months they lost a beloved grandmother and found out their mother had cancer. A heavy load at any age, it was tough for these two elementary students to take the next step. They missed their Mimi. They didn’t want to leave their mother for fear that she, too, would be taken away. They had just seen someone they loved die from cancer, they knew what cancer meant. Instead of playing in the backyard they hovered near their mom.
“I miss Mimi,” my granddaughter would whisper to me, tears running down her face. I would hug her. I knew she loved me, but I was not Mimi. I would never be Mimi; Mimi wasn’t coming back.
“Is my mom okay?” was often the next phrase. I would hug her. I would give assurances. I would be strong for both of us in the face of great uncertainty, trying to keep us afloat and able to take the next step.
Ultimately it was the bread maker that helped. Mimi had a bread maker and was known for her delicious loaves of bread. My grandson inherited the bread maker. The proper recipe was missing, but he and his mother worked at it when she felt well enough. Finally they hit upon the recipe for Mimi’s bread. The scent of the bread was like Mimi perfume in the kitchen.
Thanksgiving arrived and as menus were being set the kids asked for corn casserole, another of Mimi’s famous recipes. Suddenly they could talk about her without tears, laughing at memories and looking forward to the taste of the yummy casserole. My grandson, the bread baker, arrived at our holiday pie competition with a sugar cream pie, another family recipe, this one from Mimi’s mother. The cooking connection cemented the legacy of their grandma.
They still miss Mimi, but the shadow is gone from their eyes. They can play outside and run and sing and go to school and have arguments, all the normal things. Spring has come. And gone. And is arriving again. Their mom is healing. There is still only the guarantee that people ultimately die, but there is also the realization that while people are alive they should live.
As February comes to a close, live. I know many of you are hurting. Death, disease and world-wide destruction seem rampant, but live. The people that love you want you to live. God wants you to live. Bake some bread. Sow some seeds. Go for a walk. Go dancing. Start something new, or enjoy something nostalgic. Find a recipe from someone you loved and make it. Take in the aroma, the taste, the texture, the tears, and find new life in remembering those who have gone before. Share the recipe with your children and grandchildren and friends; tell them the story of the person who gave you the recipe. Spend the time and build relationships so that someday, when it is time for you to be memorialized, someone will say, “I miss you”.
To help you get started, here is the recipe for Mimi’s Corn Casserole! It is easy to make and delicious to eat.
Mimi’s Corn Casserole
- 1/2 cup softened butter
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 2 eggs, add one at a time, beat well after each
- 8 oz. sour cream
- 1 package of Jiffy cornbread mix
- 1/2 cup milk
- 1 can kernel corn, drained well
- 1 can cream corn
Cream butter and sugar together in a stand mixer. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each one. Add sour cream and mix. Add Jiffy Corn mix and milk a little at a time, alternating to prevent clumping. Fold in corn and creamed corn. Pour into greased 13×9″ pan, bake at 375* for 45-50 minutes, until set and lightly browned.
This is so true, our grandchildren love all their grandparents. Each grandparent brings something special to their grandchildren’s lives. Thank you for the corn casserole recipe!