We got home from our sad trip last night. When we got back to our home away from home after my father-in-law picked us up at the Philadelphia airport on Wednesday morning, we sort of felt like the dog should be running out the back door to greet us. We felt like we’d been on an extended shopping trip rather than in a different country.
Once, when I was taking courses to become a law clerk, my estates instructor said, "If you ever want to see the absolute worst in people, take up a practice in estates litigation." I got a little glimpse into his world this past week. It was terrible and stressful and impossibly sad.
But despite that there was also the laughter, special connections and expressions of love that death fosters. My mother-in-law and I share a love of cookbooks and together we went through her cookbooks during some quiet time. I copied down some family favourites and her mother’s "2 Egg Cake".
It’s wrenching looking through the possessions of someone who has left this world. The magnets from all her travels still on her fridge broke my heart. My mother-in-law let me have some little things her mother had stitched. It seemed terribly important to save them though nobody thought so but me. I like that we will have the energy captured in those pieces of cloth in our house. I like that I will make my "Mom-Mom’s" 2 Egg Cake in our new kitchen next month where a very old stitched sampler reading, "THIS KITCHEN IS CLOSED BECAUSE I AM SICK OF COOKING" hangs nearby, a perfect reminder of one seriously funny and badass grandma. We will miss you Mom-Mom P.