You're never too old......

Last year on the 25th of July ,  my mother had a terrible stroke. She didn't linger long,  which was a blessing for us all, she wasn't on life support and she  flew gaily out of her body 6 days later.  She and my father had been married for over 66 years, had 3 children together, traveled the world, created an incredible business and cherished each other with a  type of grand passion that rivaled any that  Liz Taylor and Richard Burton had ever known. When she was hospitalized 10 years ago for bypass surgery he never left her side and when he became ill over the last 5 years she spent all of that time taking care of him herself, refusing to let us do anything for them. 

My mother was a fabulous cook and known for her dinner parties. I think that was one of the reasons that he adored her. She brought to him the life that he'd always wanted, but had never known how to create for himself.   She was the  always the heart of the ball, the life of the party and her fete's were lavish yet incredibly comfortable. Dinners at their home were always beautiful, she arranged her own flowers and set the table with the gorgeous dishes and sterling silver that had been passed down to her from her great grandmother. She always served things like poached salmon with dill sauce, Scalloped oysters and sweetbreads.Her beef tenderloin was legendary and by the same token, so were her stuffed peppers. My son has informed me that no matter what I do, my mashed potatoes will never be as wonderful as hers. This is probably true because for every 4 or 5 large potatoes used she would cream in a stick of butter. I kid you not and that doesn't even include the sour cream. They were truly delicious! Walking into her house for dinner we  were always greeted by the most amazing fragrances. She truly loved her home and all that were invited to it were treated like family. 

My mother also was the person who introduced me to raw oysters and camembert, Dover sole and  taught me everything that I know about throwing a fabulous party.  We weren't allowed paper napkins and we had to use fine crystal. She believed as do I that using these beautiful things were THE classic act of recycling. Never once did I sit down to dinner at her table where there weren't candles and wine. She loved the theatre of serving first courses and had dozens of recipes for them. I inherited her Coquille St Jacques dishes...darling little porcelain scallop shells for that delectably creamy appetizer of  broiled scallops, cheese and wine. She also served  crab bisque and other soups in her gorgeous collection of demitasse cups. While she was the gourmet cook, my father relished his role as gentleman of the house and he was proud of her. It was fun to watch them and a wonderful example to have growing up in a world where so much is disposable.   

As my fathers condition worsened over over the years and he suffered year after year of mysterious illness we had to hospitalize him often. She would never go to see  him without dressing exquisitely , putting on her lipstick, pearls and perfume.  My dad called her his absolute dream wife and when she died, we worried endlessly about what would happen to him because we discovered very quickly that she had in her usual fashion been covering up for him.

Because dad requires 24/7 care , it was apparent that he wouldn't be able to stay in his home a sad decision but one that needed to be made. We chose a place for him that is right around the corner from me and the adjustment period has been hard  because although it's lovely,  it's nothing like his home and the food is horrible. I filled his room with beautiful things from their home and I sneak treats in there all of the time but he hasn't been very interested. We do have quite a good time though making fun of the Orthodox Rabbi's who patrol the place in search of bacon!

We have a lovely art therapist for dad who comes once a week to paint with him and fortunately there's a lovely young woman named Charlotte who sees my father all of the time and takes him out for coffee , ice cream and the occasional corned beef sandwich .  He hasn't had much of an appetite, he's been so sad, so the time that he spends with her is so wonderful for him. The other day I noticed that he was looking better, a bit more robust than he'd been. I asked him about it and he just smiled and said that he'd met someone and that he was thrilled to be back at work doing open heart surgery and saving lives. 

His nurse told me that he'd started to eat and that he was finally making some friends.  I guess that Springtime works it's magic on the best of us because I got a hilarious text from Charlotte telling me that he'd told her that he couldn't stop looking at her breasts and that he wanted to snuggle up between them. I almost died laughing because Charlotte is a wonderful gay woman with a committed partner. Dad of course doesn't know this and she refuses to tell him. Charlotte is the reason that I actually believe in angels. My father now lives in a beautiful world of his own design and I love playing in it with him. At 90 years young, I think that he deserves it. 

Last night for the holiday he came over for dinner and it was wonderful. I served all of his favorites,  barbecued chipotle rubbed chicken, asparagus with chopped egg and vinaigrette in the French style, homemade guacamole and chips,  fresh corn on the cob rubbed with butter, salt,pepper and herbs, a gruyere, onion and ham tarte' and of course the requisite platter of fine cheeses with fresh fruit and crackers.  My friend Brenda brought a beautiful trifle, which we all knew that he'd love!

He sat in my living room talking with my friends and enjoying a glass of ale. He loved their company and fortunately for me they love his , so including him in the conversation is never difficult. He ate at least a pound of cheese on his own with an absolutely rapturous look on his face, enjoying the creamy brie, savoring the saltiness of the roquefort and devouring the Cotswald with equal abandon. He enjoyed an ear of corn but then went back to the cheese forgoing all else for his beloved camembert and pears!

Shortly afterwards he announced to everyone that it had been a pleasure and that it was time for him to go home. I took him back to his room and instead of the normal tears he thanked me  and told me what a  wonderful time he'd had.  He made me promise to call him when I got home and then he shut his eyes happily and fell asleep.  Walking out of there I realized that it had been worth it, all of it and that he had finally moved on. What I realized, was that there was no way to lesson his pain and that he'd had to go through it himself and in his own time.   Yesterday I learned the greatest lesson that I've learned from him yet and that is that life can go on happily and lustily!

Truly, my heart is full......