A year ago I noted that I only posted once in all of 2019! I also apologized that my blog birthday post was doing double duty as a belated New Year’s post.
So much for the Happy 2020 wishes…
Thanks(?) to COVID-19, I did more blog posts in the last year – several “Distancing Diaries” until it became so tedious that June was my last Diary. Who was to know that seven months later we’d still be in the throes of the pandemic journey?
When it comes to food blogging, as I have said before, the resto review gig has hijacked my time/writing. I still have many family recipes - and stories - to share before it’s my turn to exit.
“Stories enact a form of mutual hospitality. What is story if not an enticement to stay? You’re invited in.” (Be My Guest by Priya Basil)
This birthday story invites you in, hoping you’ll stay awhile to read about life, death, “stuff” and hospitality.
After than June Diary, the next main event in life was the death of my mother in August, followed a few weeks later by that of my mother-in-law (MIL) – neither from COVID - and the ensuing emptying of a condo filled with almost 50 years of “stuff”.
The bulk of the work was done by Mr. KB and his brother, and while it wasn’t exactly the plan, working hours every day, the place was emptied in about a month. With my Mother’s house – and she was still alive but in LTC - it took 4 months. I couldn’t help noticing the impact of time on this process. For me, the main decisions – keep, donate, trash – were tough at first but over time ruthlessness set-in. Paradoxically, that went hand in hand with decision fatigue such that some things came to my house for postponed “sentencing”. That was 2017 and I can’t report a lot of progress.
With my MIL’s place, sorting through things only weeks into grieving made decisions more difficult and perhaps more things were kept, finding their way to our ever-crowded house.
And yet… many things were in fact donated or discarded. When reflecting on the number of things that ended up in the garbage, I feel like I should be apologizing to Mother Earth.
Our experience begged the question “Has society reached “peak stuff?” The day before the move of big furniture, we learned that the usual suspects re furniture donations were not accepting furniture. Not because of COVID. Simply because they had too much stuff, nobody was taking it away and they had no more space. Technically, for everything being given away there must surely be one person on the planet who would need or want it, but connecting with them is a challenge. In the end, some things ended up at the dump and seeing that pile of refuse was unforgettable.
That’s not all from us - but still a tragic sight…
We’re all under Emergency Lockdown now, but whenever things ease up I hope to continue thoughtful disposal activities. Will have to revisit ideas from “The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning” by Margareta Magnusson.
One category of things that is hard to let go of are the “crafts”. My mother had great talent in various things such as knitting and fine crocheting. These are treasures.
But she once signed up for a “pottery” workshop. Not the kind where you throw pottery on a wheel, but where you glaze ready-made items that get fired, and you return a week later to apply a decal. They do not “bring joy” and I have no use or storage space for them. I cannot donate them because her name is carved into the bottom.
I’m taking some comfort from the fact that my “crafts” are mainly writing and cooking so there won’t be much to dispose of other than a hard drive and crumbs.
Writing in the rec room. Mom gone… house gone… university essays finally discarded. But KB Son#2 has the typewriter!
Photos are also hard to dispose of and one is easily overwhelmed by the complexity of sorting through prints. My own kids will be left with a mountain of photos – prints and digital. Digitals have the advantage of not taking up space. But will they ever look at the digital library? Probably not - perhaps missing a tangible act of grieving. Even if a photo is only touched for seconds, it triggers a journey down memory lane and that can’t be all bad.
For several family funerals, I have taken on the task of making the photo slide show. (I find the process cathartic.) My mother’s photo story had such an impact. It reminded me that she was not always who she has (had) been lately. Embarrassing that I even needed reminding. Younger, slim, fashionable, in talent shows and so on. Pathetic and shameful that it took death for me to grasp and appreciate the arc and scope of her life.
Back to food blogging… last year I predicted 2020 would be my “bread” year. Not so for me though sourdough was a pandemic passion project for many.
Social isolation has been the dominant theme of the year. Since writing is a solitary activity, I may have been somewhat insulated from its effects, but I miss “hospitality” - cooking for company.
“Maybe food really is the simplest way for people anywhere to share with each other… food is a force - and when shared its power may be amplified.” (Priya Basil)
Here’s hoping I see some of you at my table in 2021! End of story.
P.S. I did manage to add a new recipe in 2021 - Hungarian Chestnut Purée (Gesztenyepüré). Enjoy!