This is a reprint of last year's November 2nd post. I was going to write a new one, but A) I'm too busy doing NaNoWriMo and B) my mom really liked this one.
Growing up Catholic, November 2nd meant All Souls Day, although I
don't really remember anything in particular happening at school other
than going to church. My sister, 16 years my senior, has more vivid
memories
and perhaps things had changed some before I entered parochial school.
In recent years I've heard a lot more about the celebrations around Day
of the Dead, which sound like a much more fun way of honoring the
deceased. I have a thing about altars anyway, so the idea of setting
one up for departed loved ones and then munching on some sugar skulls is
right up my alley.
Today on my sister's writing site,
Nudged to Write,
she talked about Day of the Dead and gave a prompt (or "nudge") of
writing about death-related customs. I don't really have any myself and
my father is probably furious in the afterlife that I don't go to his
grave every holiday with plastic flowers as was
his custom. (He
always bragged, "Hell, I got these for 99 cents each at the dollar
store.") I love to wander around cemeteries, but
not the ones
housing my close family. I'm not one who thinks that any part of the
person lingers where he/she is buried. If I want to visit with my
maternal grandmother, for instance, I prefer to go to Morrow, Ohio,
where she spent her childhood years. If her spirit was going to hang
out anywhere it would be there.
The other day I read an
article
about pagans preparing to celebrate Samhain and one in particular who
held a dinner with place settings for her departed relatives. According
to the article, on October 31st the "veil between the worlds of the
living and the dead is believed to be the thinnest of any time during
the year." I'm always too busy out trick-or-treating with the kids to
serve dinner for relatives, living
or dead, but I really like the idea and it got me thinking of who I'd invite and what I'd serve.
Dad
My
father passed away two years ago following a stroke. While he was
alive, though, he liked his food. I could go with Montgomery Inn Ribs,
White Castles, or KFC chicken strips, all favorites. I definitely would
skip his more disgusting taste treats like pickled pig's feet and
Limburger cheese. Ultimately I would go for Swedish meatballs. At the
buffet at my wedding reception he pretty much single-handedly cleaned
out the steam tray devoted to them. When he returned to the head table,
my step-mother looked at the plate and said, "I can't eat all that."
He returned with, "Goddamn, they ain't for you."
Grandma Martha
My
maternal grandmother shared my love of food...and my weight issues.
When I was ten she joined Nutri-System and during counseling they talked
about "notorious eating companions." Yep, I was labeled as hers. I
can't think of Grandma without remembering her chocolate pudding, the
ribbon candy she put out at Christmas, and her "recipe," which was a
mixture of Ginger Ale and Mogen David Wine. For my dinner, though, I
think I'd go with black walnut ice cream, which she never passed up.
David
My
step-father, who I always called "Imi", died in 2004. He did not have
sophisticated taste in food and was perfectly happy with a lunch of
canned soup and fried baloney sandwich. He was an avid gardener and
would grow zucchinis the size of baseball bats. For that reason only
I'd serve zucchini bread at the meal in his honor. (Plus I can't abide
the thought of a fried baloney sandwich.)
Grandma Mary
My
paternal grandmother quite honestly never seemed to think much of
anyone's cooking but her own. She was known in the family for her apple
pie and coffee cake, although I seem to remember lots of Jello cookies
and the time she made boxed macaroni and cheese, not understanding you
were supposed to mix up the powdered cheese until it dissolved. I doubt
she'd like anything I cooked (although she loved me and probably
wouldn't have criticized...to my face). I think I'd go with something
familiar from my childhood with her but which tastes the same no matter
who prepares it: Rice Krispies treats.
 |
Shirley on left, my mother
on right |
Aunt Shirley
My mother's only sister
died just last year and I don't really connect her with food. She was
glamorous. She had very blonde hair that was usually very big, brightly
painted red fingernails, and rings on every finger. She had a nice
figure up until the last decade or so of her life when health problems
took a toll. For her I'd probably go back to a treat from
her
childhood, when her mother would make fudge. So, for Shirley there is
Grandma's homemade fudge. (Unfortunately Grandma took the knack for
making it to the afterlife with her and we've never
quite been able to duplicate it. Same with her "recipe.")
Aunt Margaret
My
father's sister passed away weeks after his funeral. I'm sure Aunt
Margaret liked to eat, but honestly when I think of her I see her with a
beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. (My sister still
remembers, with horror, Aunt Margaret crushing up her Sno-Cone for her
with a cigarette between her fingers and the ashes falling in with the
ice and sugar.) I believe she gave up both drinking and smoking in her
later years, but I'm sure it wouldn't be a heavenly feast for her
without a Budweiser.
I've
already made clear to my family that I want to be cremated and my ashes
put in a Dooney and Bourke purse. My sister is planning how she can
line the thing and waterproof it. I used to say I wanted to be
sprinkled on Wrigley Field near home plate, so when Ryne Sandberg slid
some of me would stick to the back of his pants. He retired before I
died so now I go with the Dooney option.
Anyone else already have their burial plans in place? Any unusual requests?
**
Unrelated note: I do not control the content of the ads on my
website. In particular, I want it to be known that any political ads
are not an endorsement by me. I've had candidates from both political
parties show up in ads and I don't want readers to think I'm pushing an
agenda one way or another. If you disagree with a candidate shown,
please don't hold it against me. Depending on who it is, I may not like
him/her either.
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