Remembrance

[mama n' me]

It's been two weeks since my mom's first anniversary memorial and it blows my mind that she's been gone for an entire year.  I had left myself a buffer of a few weeks to sort out thoughts and emotions, but when it came down to it I was one.  hot.  mess.  Especially because Mom's was a week after the 10-year anniversary of 9/11, and those memories revolve a lot around my parents.  I sat down to write about my mom and the waterworks started -- surprising because I thought I was fully resolved that she had truly finished her life and was therefore okay with it all.  But the truth was -- and is -- that I will always, always miss this lady.

When I have bad days, I miss my mom's comforting hugs.  She always insisted that it's okay and I'm still young and it'll work out. 

When I have good days, I miss my mom's celebratory hugs.  I miss her comments on my haircuts and manicures.  I miss her guilt trips over my shopping, until I told her I got a good deal, and she'd say, "Good girl!"  I miss her curiosities over my knitting or sewing or embroidery projects.  I miss the way she said, "turtle," or "squirrel."  I miss her grammatically precise emails, how she always wrote, "perhaps," and never, "maybe."   And her texts.  I miss her laugh.  All the seeming little things that are such huge and gaping holes in my life, now that they're no longer a few miles down the road.

So, you see, I can't have a day that's not without missing some part of my mom.

My coworker saw my puffy red eyes coming out of the ladies room, put her arms around me and let me sob into her shoulder for as long as I needed.  She lost her mom a few months after me, so knew exactly how I was feeling and exactly what I needed.  Thank God for sending angels at just the right time.

As the weekend progressed, we observed the cultural customs.  At the Buddhist temple, we found Mom's photo on the big wall along with all the other people who've died.  Her coordinates are OO-64.  The feeling of being so separated from her was surreal and discomforting.  My younger brother had his mini-meltdown then.  The next day, when the extended group -- family, coworkers, high school alumni, college alumni, NZ alumni -- gathered at my dad's house, was another day of showing up.  I'm so grateful to my cousins who helped with all the food and serving!  My youngest brother had his meltdown then: in addition to mourning and missing Mom, he just found out that one of his housemates was killed in a hit-and-run bicycle accident.  Sadness and shock all over again.

The picture above is one I took of me and my mom at the black sand beach at Waia'napanapa on the island of Maui, when our entire family vacationed there in 2009.  It was our first family vacation since my brothers were kids, and Mom's first year of retirement.  We ate and drank and talked and faught and swam and shopped and drove and watched the sunrise and had a great time.  My SIL later shared that my mom actually said she had fun, that she did things -- like snorkelling -- she'd never done before and never thought she could do.  With all her kids.  At the same time.  How awesome is that?  After a lifetime of work and struggle and never thinking that she could ever rest, I'm happy that she had a couple years to relax before she left us. 

I won't try to wrap up this post in any succint or "lesson learned" manner because the truth is, this sadness and gladness over my mom will ebb and flow for the rest of my life.  I don't know whether that's okay or not; it just is.

Pizza!

My brother has gotten really into making pizza lately. At yesterday's family dinner he taught us how it's done. I got to roll out and work the dough, shape it, add toppings, slide it into and take it out of the oven. It was fun! And delicious! Here's what I ended up with:

Yes, plain ol' pepperoni. Call me conservative, I don't mind. :)

Wednesday dinners

Growing up, my mom cooked a new meal and my family had dinner together every night.  I always thought that was what everyone did, until I went to my friends' homes in high school and it was every man for himself!

Over the years, the older kids grew up and lived on their own, and the younger kids grew more independent, and meals became mostly my mom and dad.  They could afford to eat out more often, too.  I noticed take-home boxes more and more in their refrigerator, and after my mom's aneurysm surgery in 2007, I decided to come home and cook for them once a week.  My older brother joined in the effort, and we were having family dinners together twice a week.  Gradually we reduced to once a week and divvied cooking privileges between the four siblings.  It became a family tradition that we are still continuing each week.  This year I decided to document what we cook and eat.

I had a visitor in town over the New Year, so the first week's dinner was moved to Honda-ya, one of my favorite izakaya restaurants in LA.  We went more for ambiance than food quality (their food is good, but there are other places that are better): we sat in the tatami section and ordered pitchers of beer and tons of food, reminiscent of days in Japan (where I met my friend, so brought back old memories).

[izakaya]

It's Dungeness crab season, so last Wednesday we decided on seafood shabu shabu, adding salmon and shrimp along with the usual goodies (napa cabbage; spinach; enoki, shiitake, white and brown kinoko mushrooms; tofu; konnyaku; green onion).  We used ponzu and lemon for dipping.  It was delicious!

[seafood shabu]

I'm looking forward to the culinary delights that are in store for us this upcoming year!  I hope to come up with a better name than "Family Dinner."  Suggestions are welcome!