Each morning, after she’d had a bath and her medications, she would tell me what she wanted to eat that evening. She loved food and was once a fabulous cook who loved to try new things. She was missing the comforting routines and rhythms of planning, shopping for and preparing a good meal. After all, she’d raised five children, and cooking was a big part of her life. It occurred to me that Mom was going to miss the holiday season, the time of year when she most loved showing off her culinary prowess. I remembered the fun we’d had planning menus for family on Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Mom was not in pain and was quite lucid, although a little confused from time to time regarding the day of the week, the date and sometimes the month. I decided that any time is the right time for a holiday, because it’s really just a celebration of family being together. What started as a short shopping trip ended up with me loading my cart with ham, potatoes for mashing, a whole turkey, lasagna fixings, cranberries and ingredients for pumpkin and mincemeat pies.
My mother always told us, “Food is love,” and I was on a mission to show her how much I loved her. She would enjoy her last Thanksgiving, Christmas and birthday a little early that year. My friends and siblings loved the idea, and everyone pitched in. Even the grocer was cooperative, finding all the out-of-season items I requested.
The challenge now was to determine in which order these “holidays” would occur. Thanksgiving was the best first choice because it involved menu planning, shopping-list preparation, recipe review and finding the right decorations and linens, as well as planning a beautiful table. She could participate, or at least supervise, from bed. Also, it was her favorite holiday because it’s a time for retrospection and thinking about what we’re thankful for.
Her hands shook quite a bit and she had long stopped writ-ing anything, but she slowly put together a menu and a set of instructions. She made a separate list of staples I needed to have on hand. She made notes about where decorations, linens and recipes might be found. She also made reminders about exactly how the tables should be set. My mother was an extremely purposeful person all her life. She now had a purpose again. I noticed she didn’t sleep quite as much and appeared to be less anxious while involved in something she loved to do. The opportunity to excel at something enjoyable and to feel needed was very important to my mom. And more important to her, she was planning something that would bring a lot of enjoyment to others.
When I was growing up, the Christmas tree went up on Thanksgiving night and stayed up until after New Year’s. This time the tree was up, decorated and lit by the third week of July, when we had our Thanksgiving. The tree was situated in the sitting room off her bedroom so she could see it from her bed.
The summer was one long holiday season, with a decorated house, gifts and traditional foods and music. Even as Mom’s condition worsened, she remained very engaged in the process, directing the action and supervising the cooking. For the meals, we set up small tables with linens and candles in her bedroom. Whoever was around or visiting joined the party. We even had the fireplace going for the “winter” holidays. We celebrated my mother’s birthday during the first week of September with ice-cream cake and gifts. Her actual birthday was Sept. 22, but we knew she wouldn’t make it.
My mother passed away quietly in her sleep on Sept. 8 at 79. When the holiday season came in earnest that year, it was sad and lonely for my family. But we felt secure in the knowledge that she had thoroughly enjoyed her favorite time of year that summer. And then there was one final and ongoing celebration to be had: a celebration of her life.
