Bread in the Mourning

Yesterday, at a friend's house, I glanced idly through one of her Persian cookbooks. The pictures were tantalizing and I quickly worked my way to the dessert section. The number of the recipes with associations to grieving traditions surprised and intrigued me. Some dishes were to be made repeatedly, (on the 4th, 7th, and 40th days after the death of a loved one, for example) and many were to be shared with the grieving family and also with the poor.

Since Grandma died, over 2 weeks ago, I have worked out some of my grief in the kitchen. The first week, I baked potato bread and pugliese for our family. (I figured, if the army goes out of their way to bring fresh bread to the front lines for its morale-boosting benefits, it was probably a good idea for us as well.) Since then, I have made (and shared) whole wheat sandwich bread, ginger scones, plain scones, oatmeal molasses bread, a cinnamon coffeecake and several batches of cookies (including the one we ate for dinner last night. OK...yes...and breakfast this morning). I don't know if this amount of baking is unusual for me; I don't keep a baking diary. But it has taken on new meaning as I consider its place in my grieving process.

A year ago Christmas, I gave Grandma and Grandpa 12 months of bread. I wanted to visit them more often and bake more regularly and this gave me the impetus to do both. It was a good plan with satisfying results all around as we usually stayed long enough to share good bread and great stories. So this year would have been our second year of bread-induced visiting and I was really looking forward to it. I will still take bread to Grandpa, of course, and in many ways, the time with him is even more precious now, but it may be more a grieving tradition than a Christmas gift. We will break bread together and mark the passing of time since her death and honor the courage it has taken for Grandpa to make it through another month without his wife of (almost) 65 years.

Today I...

...cleaned up cat puke, thrice
...broke a plate
...burned my hand (a pretty hefty burn and I am playing for worship at a women's group tomorrow)
...found out that my sister is in jail for a DUI
...got an update on my grandma-in-law who is in the hospital
...spilled a cup of soured milk on my lunch, across the counter and down into the dishtowel drawer
...got an update on my brother who ODed over the weekend (my younger siblings joined my family as older children and brought a lot of difficult baggage they are still sorting through)
but I also...
...went for a walk in the snow with my daughters (laughing all the way)
...snuggled with the aforementioned cat (not her fault someone left a bowl of bean soup within her reach)
...received a conciliatory hug from my eldest
...spent time at the library with my children's librarian buddies
...baked cookies
...caught snow on my tongue
...gave away a frozen meal to someone who needed it more than I
...watched my daughters dance to jazz music
...found the matching lid for my leftovers container on the first try
...sent evites for my 30th birthday party
...made honey-mustard-curry chicken
...treasured (once again) my luminous life