David

I remember him as the blonde, stocky father who seemed slightly out of place waiting in the preschool hallway among mostly SAHMs.   We would all chat while waiting for our two-year-olds to be released.  He had a nice smile and kind eyes.  He never said much, but when he did speak, it was in a deep British accent.  That was three years ago.


Today I ran into his wife at swimming lessons.  I hadn't seen her since last May when our children finished up their last week of preschool.  On several occasions throughout the preschool year, we had chatted a bit, but nothing of substance.  Her two children were in the same classes with my two oldest children, so we had something in common.  Her daughter is 6, her son is 4.


She came up to me and started a conversation;  "how's it going?" "whatcha been up to?" Standard stuff.  And then somewhere, as the conversation flowed, she mentioned that her husband had passed away in October.


 "He had brain cancer," she said, "the kind Edward Kennedy had." 


He had been given one year to live, and lived for five.  They discovered the cancer when she was pregnant with their daughter, their first child.  On their daughter's first day of Kindergarten, he was rushed to the ER in critical condition.  He died two months later. 


As I was standing there listening, my eyes swelled up with tears.  It was hard to imagine that strong sweet man lying on his deathbed.  I pictured his wife trying to pick up the pieces of her life, and continue to carry on; to continue on with things like swimming lessons, and cooking dinner, and keeping up the business that they started together...without him, all while coping with her own tremendous loss and sorrow.


I knew very little about her family until today.  And yet now I can't stop thinking about them.


Later during the swim lesson, her children came over and were talking to me.  Their hair was still dripping wet from their own lessons, and they were asking lots of questions.  They wanted to watch my boys swim and noticed that my son had just received a haircut.  They asked me, "What does their Daddy look like?"  and as I was answering, I noticed that these children both looked very much like their own Daddy; the same sweet smile, the same kind eyes.  It was hard for me to keep from imagining how lonely their house must feel, how empty it must be when they come home from swimming lessons, or wherever they spend their days.  It was painful to consider how much they must miss him.


While she was talking to me, I was struck by how positive she was, and not in a fake "putting on a good face" way.  It just seemed to me that she is typically and genuinely an upbeat, positive person.  She mentioned that she cries "sixty to eighty" times a day, but her overall demeanor seemed bright.  I felt thankful for that, for her sake.  I would probably lock myself in a dark room and never want to come out.


A random, unexpected conversation changed my day.  Just another reminder of how life can go from la-di-da to tragic in a moment.  A reminder of how important it is to value each day.  A reminder of how important is it is to find ways to be positive about life and not get caught up in the negative. A reminder to never take life's happy moments for granted, and to always strive to make more moments joyful.  Life is too short.

Stop and Smell the Pasta

Efficient.  A good word to describe myself.  I am one of those people who will carry grocery bags in my teeth, just to avoid a second trip to the car.  I stuff as many clothes into the washer as possible, and forget Spray-n-Wash, that just takes TOO much time.  When I exercise, I run as fast as I can, so that I don't have to run for very long. My current goal is to find a way to put on my make-up while I am still in the shower.  (I'll let you know when I figure this one out.)   Fast and quick, that is me.  With three small boys, this is partly a survival skill, but mostly, it is so I can get the "chore" completed and begin doing something that I enjoy.


Lately however, I have realized that I am rushing through EVERYTHING as if it is a chore.  I also realized that the things I "enjoy" may not actually be as enjoyable as the things I am rushing through.  For example, I found myself rushing through Dr. Suess' Green Eggs and Ham and cuddle time with the boys, so that I could escape downstairs to watch "Bizarre Foods" and the latest news on the ACORN scandal.  I decided I needed a change.


So, for starters, as part of my "relish the process plan (RTPP),"   I spent this week trying to do away with my typical "quick solution" dinner (i.e. microwaved pasta, microwaved Indian food, microwaved rice... yes, I microwave EVERYTHING).  Granted, the RTPP becomes difficult when part of the cooking  "process" includes two children screaming (yes screaming) about who gets to add the salt and the milk, while the third child is sitting on the counter, eating some ingredients and pouring others down his diaper. The "process" is also made complicated by three boys scrambling for position at the counter.  Of course, they each want to stand next to Mommy, and while I am flattered, this struggle to be Alpha Son inevitably results in someone falling off his chair and hurting himself.  (I know I know, there is always the TV, but I am trying to avoid quick fixes, right?  Plus, its the whole efficiency thing again-- I can spend time with the kids AND cook, right?) So, the cooking "process" also involves bandaids, ice, and kisses.


However, despite some difficulties and some microwaving relapses, I am proud to announce that I actually made dinner three times this week! Three times! And I cleaned up a ton of dishes. THREE times!!!  There is NO efficiency in cooking, people!  But it's the process, I tell myself.  Enjoy the P-R-O-C-E-S-S...as slow as it may be.   I will admit, the fresh food tasted better-- the end result was rewarding, and the cooking process was okay as well.  Chaotic and loud, but okay...  Baby steps.


Here is one of my favorites for the week:


Lemon Fusilli with Arugula--by Ina Garten
1 tablespoon good olive oil
1 tablespoon minced garlic (2 cloves)
2 cups heavy cream
3 lemons
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 pound dried fusilli pasta
1/2 pound baby arugula (or 2 bunches of common arugula, leaves cut in thirds)
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan
1 pint grape or cherry tomatoes, halved


Directions


Heat the olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat, add the garlic, and cook for 60 seconds. Add the cream, the zest from 2 lemons, the juice of 2 lemons, 2 teaspoons of salt, and 1 teaspoon of pepper. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer for 15 to 20 minutes, until it starts to thicken.
Meanwhile, cut the broccoli in florets and discard the stem. Cook the florets in a pot of boiling salted water for 3 to 5 minutes, until tender but still firm. Drain the broccoli and run under cold water to stop the cooking. Set aside.


Bring a large pot of water to a boil, add 1 tablespoon of salt and the pasta, and cook according to the directions on the package, about 12 minutes, stirring occasionally. Drain the pasta in a colander and place it back into the pot. Immediately add the cream mixture and cook it over medium-low heat for 3 minutes, until most of the sauce has been absorbed in the pasta. Pour the hot pasta into a large bowl, add the arugula, Parmesan, tomatoes, and cooked broccoli. Cut the last lemon in half lengthwise, slice it 1/4-inch thick crosswise, and add it to the pasta. Toss well, season to taste, and serve hot.