Is it too obvious to start a monthly post about food on Thanksgiving?  Over the past few months I’ve had the pleasure of having dinner with friends (on completely different occasions) and it occurred to me that each of these dinners had that legacy feel about them.  But what was it?  The food?  The company?  The feeling of dinners past?  What?

So it got me thinking (I know…what doesn’t get me thinking) why not explore dinner with friends as yet another form of Ordinary Legacy.  Why not explore not only my experiences but yours?  Tell me about your dinner with friends that had a legacy feel to it and we’ll write it up and post it for all to share.

As for Thanksgiving dinner, I cooked.  I haven’t cooked in a few years and it was bitter sweet.  I decided to change up the menu to accommodate those who are no longer with us.  It just seemed too hard to sit and enjoy someone’s favorite foods when they are no longer with us to enjoy it too.

So does switching up garlic mashed with scalloped potatoes, simply because you know you’ll never make them as good as Honey, constitute breaking tradition or is it an accommodation of love and respect?  Does it make it harder or easier to get through the meal? Does buying a fresh turkey and having the butcher cut it into parts buck tradition also?  If you’ve lost your cooking partner and have the lone responsibility…screw tradition.  Working a day ahead, making the stock (with all those extra pieces), preparing the dressing, roasting the brussel sprouts (for sautéing on the day of) and baking the sweet potatoes isn’t bucking its therapeutic and cathartic.  It gives you the privacy to discuss things with those who are no longer here to make sure they are alright with it and to listen for anything dropping in the house that would indicate they’re not.  All went well; I didn’t burn myself, drop anything, or hear anything to indicate otherwise.

The irony of switching mashed for scalloped is that my paternal grandmother (otherwise known as Grandmamma…) used to make them on the few occasions she cooked holiday dinners. She wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy grandmother, more restrained and aloof.  So while I’m honoring Honey, am I insulting my father?  Who the hell knows?

The important thing is not really the food but those seated at your table.  Thankfully, I have my mother and my sister.  Together we welcome our friends, the Mandelbaum-Scott family, and we dine together all thinking to ourselves I wish……were here to enjoy this feast.  Then we eat and enjoy each other’s company, with those we miss safely tucked back in our memories.  It was a wonderful new Thanksgiving.

It’s been a year since you’ve left us and we miss you every day.  But!, we are putting one foot in front of the other always on our way to celebrating all that is you.  We laugh now, we go to your favorite restaurants and we tell your stories.  We’ve got your football kids covered with the Foundation and all the people you care about are held in our thoughts and prayers.

Terri is amazing.  Her grace reaches out to everyone and holds on to them.  She’s a hard example to follow with her dedication to your legacy and her making her way in the world on quiet feet.   She’s learning to be silly again, she’s visiting with Bob as much as she can and making you proud each day.

She misses you most of all, such was your love for each other.  But!, she is surrounded by love from all of us, her friends and neighbors, who each day think of you,  and she will be fine.  More so as time goes by.

For the rest of my life Thanksgiving will be dedicated to you, to celebrate your birthday and to toast my cooking partner.  We won’t ever enjoy that meal without first toasting all that you’ve meant to us and all that we are because of you.  Salute, take care of Thomas, Love San

We lost one of our own I heard so many people say yesterday.  At a memorial celebration for our friend Jay Maxwell Fretz (February 22, 1958 – September 7, 2011) hundreds of people turned out to celebrate his life. Each of the people I heard say “we lost one of our own” seemed to be from a different group representing the many lives of our Jay.  The automotive group, of which I am part, the church group, the family group, the community group, the friends group all had lost one of their own.  How moving a tribute to be standing in line (for well on one hour trying to get to the family) with so many who called Jay their own. I heard one woman say, “Well of course, that’s Jay”…indeed it was.

Each of the three pastors that spoke at the service was in awe of Jay; Using phrases like unwavering determination, sweetness of spirit, and a giant of faith.  They spoke of feeling they had been ministered to by Jay after praying with him.   Elizabeth Kubler Ross once said, “Those who learned to know death, rather than to fear and fight it, become our teachers about life.”  After being so touched by his attending mass and taking Communion,  Jay’s Pastors agreed that in dying Jay taught us all how to live.

When I pray I ask God to give me, and anyone I’m praying for, what we need.  I long ago figured out that praying for what you want is useless but praying for what you need always serves you.  I pray that God gives Jay’s family what they need.  I pray that their sadness will turn to the joy and celebration of Jay’s life with them.

I know that will come in time but the year of “firsts” must do its job.  There will be the obvious holidays and birthdays and anniversaries all of which loom ahead.  The firsts that will do the most to bring you to the end of that year will be the smallest ones that somehow catch you by surprise; trips to the dry cleaner, the grocery store, the renewal of magazines, the songs on the radio and the moments when you know like you know Jay is right beside you.  Each of these firsts put in your path to bring you to the moment of peace and gratitude you so rightfully deserve.

Wanda, know that you are loved and we are all at the ready for whatever you need.  Your strength is a wonder but we know that the other shoe must drop and we will be there to catch it.  Do what you need to do my dear but call on any of us to help you in whatever way you need.  The boys will go home and your house will seem to exhale, you must do the same.

In the midst of my sadness I am somehow grateful.  Grateful that my friend is now safely across the universe and no longer suffering.  Grateful that I’ve had the honor of knowing Jay, and now his family, and that I could help in some small way to ease their pain.  I am grateful that they are in the arms of their family and friends that will help them through this year of firsts so
that we might all come to celebrate Jay for many many years to come.

Jai guru deva om

Zora Neale Hurston once said that there are years that ask the questions and years that answer.  In the scheme of illness that can be reduced down to there are days and then there are days.  Today was a good day and that afforded me the privilege of having lunch with my friends Jay and Wanda.  Yesterday, not so much, tomorrow, who the hell knows.

I was greeted at the door by Trek and offered his favorite toy.  Quite the high honor but once inside he went right back to lying near his Dada and kept vigil thereafter. 

Kisses all around, out to the porch to enjoy a delicious salad and a crispy crust pizza. There was conversation of family, humor, and interesting tidbits, sharing recipes, philosophy and laughter.  I know you want more but there are things you should know and things you don’t need to know.  You don’t need to know the minutia of illness. What you need to know is that there are rituals and courtesies and love in place to handle it and make it fade ever so slightly into the background.

What you also need to know is that bringing a bit of normal into a home can make those living in it rejoice and remember and share.  That keeping in touch is more important than the minutia of our own lives.  That saying I love you to your friends is good for everyone.  This couple of hours was the highlight of my week and I will cherish them and enjoy them as much as I enjoyed our meal.

You also need to know that regardless of your personal preference, your disposition, or your ability to tolerate or engage in eating there is nothing like a freshly fried cannoli shell filled with sweet ricotta cream.  Even one bite can be tolerated with the utmost enjoyment.

Thank you for lunch my friends, I love you dearly and hope to see you soon.

Today it was my honor to attend a reunion, of sorts, between my friend Jay and the colleagues he hasn’t really seen since he’d been diagnosed with cancer. His cancer has since become terminal.  He visited his workplace and surprised (kind of, the word seemed to have gotten out) many of them in the midst of their workday.  They gathered around him in a mix of excitement, tentativeness and love.  This is a man truly well-loved and very much missed at this dealership.  This man is an anomaly; a gentleman in the car business. 

The word terminal hangs in the air without much belief to most, but Jay understands.  He has conversations with God and prays for solace and forgiveness.  All of which is unnecessary as Jay is not in any danger of being on God’s bad side.  This is a true family man, a gentle soul who’s guided many of these colleagues for dozens of years.  He will continue to pray, to drink his goji juice and exude optimism simply because that’s who he is and he is, indeed, at peace.

He understands his peace is a blessing to him but he worries for those left behind.  The gentleness he showed to his colleagues as their emotions ran the gamut of excitement, sorrow, discomfort, and unease was as remarkable as any of us would have expected.  He was the comforter no longer needing to be comforted himself.

This is what I love about Jay.  Always pragmatic, always fully grounded in reality he just knows how to live and be in the world and when he does leave us we can take many lessons from him.  Love your family, live by example and leave the world a better place.

So there he was holding court, giving each person the attention they needed in a setting that gave him just a bit of “normal” to take home with him to the hospice nurses and the hospital bed.  Of course, I had to give him a bit of the car hag in me as just a bit more normal for him to laugh about and hold on to.

As for grace, thy name is Wanda.  I love meeting someone for the first time and knowing that we are already old friends.  I love being able to give someone something so personal and unrelated to their current circumstances that it will come to define their present anguish but transition to their future comfort. I will be here for Wanda well into the future whether she chooses to call on me or not.  I raise a glass to you my friend and look out over my enchanted forest with you in mind.

I will keep texting Jay and posting to their caring-bridge until there is really nothing left to say.  But I can hear Jay, a devoted Beatles fan, listening and knowing that his legacy and our love for him will indeed be spread across the universe.

Sounds of laughter shades of life
are ringing through my open ears
exciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which
shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe…john Lennon