December 15, 2022
I made bread!
My sister Jeanne made it a couple of times at her house in New York. She made it look so easy. She even made me believe we made it together, but it was all her. I wanted to make it myself at home ever since and purchased a Dutch oven specifically for this purpose. It’s been months. The thought of making bread was intimidating for some reason. Finally last night I prepared the dough and let it sit.
The dough and the weather were both very wet this morning. The dough was not even close to the consistency of hers. There was a tornado warning and the water from the flooded street was inching toward my house. Do I try to bake the wet dough or toss it and get myself and my dogs to higher ground?
But Jeanne encouraged me via text. Add flour, just try it, your house will smell great even if the bread doesn’t make it. The bread made it, the house smells great and the bread tastes great, but not as great as hers.
Jeanne’s bread was more artisanal looking. Mine was more dense, maybe because it’s Florida and the weather here affects it, maybe it is because my Dutch oven is smaller than hers. Maybe it’s because we weren’t together…
Maybe I wished to be there with her. Maybe the scent of warm bread filling the air in her house, wafting over to my mother’s side of the house made it taste that much better. Maybe now the idea of the scent of warm bread filling their entire house would momentarily fill the void left by my mother who was moved to an assisted living facility yesterday.
Why was doing this alone so daunting? It turned out to be easy really. The hard part was dealing with new things such as putting a pot inside a 450 degree oven with parchment paper inside. I was scared the pot would explode and the paper ignite into flames. Flooding outside, flaming inside…
I never made bread before. Bread was always one of those things people much more skilled at baking did. So I had to overcome my own self doubt. It was easy. Just had to follow the directions. But I wouldn’t have accomplished this task without Jeanne’s help, encouragement and coaching.
Jeanne’s words of encouragement got me through it. If her words didn’t penetrate my apprehension, I would have thrown it away, without knowing we’d make it through, and enjoy warm bread after.
The love and words of encouragement Twitch got couldn’t reach him in a meaningful way. Twitch is the nickname of the DJ on The Ellen Show. He just ended his life the other day. He had everything and nothing because of some block, some scar, some something which made life’s hurdles insurmountable.
It really is a hideous reality we live with - - an awareness of the inevitability of our death. I understand why people jump ship. It’s like sitting on death row and the angst becomes too much. So we make love, work, play, bread, chit chat and try not to focus on the firing squad ahead.
There have been times when none of my pacifiers did their job. Nothing lightened the load. Only the memory of getting through past experiences gave me the fortitude to hang on through the current one. This too shall pass.
Now we face this milestone with my mother. Her faith got her here and will continue to help her to adapt to her new environment. She wanted to die at home but she knows now that she needs this level of care on a daily basis. In October while we were at my nephew’s wedding, my mother stayed home, slid from her chair to the floor and couldn’t get up. She fell twice since.
She was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and Atrial Fibrillation. She has six children. We can’t carry each other’s burden now or when she’s gone. Maybe we’ll share a laugh or a memory which softens the blow enough to keep going. We can make bread and seek joy in the moment, just like mom does.
