For years, Mom used to bake and cook for the holidays. And then, beginning around the millennium, she began to do much less. Of course, this was to be expected as our family was less inclined to travel to her home through the weather, and it was nicer to have her spend time with us at our homes. However, as much as she cursed all the work, money, and effort of it all, she did present us with many goodies during this time.
She made Mount Raniers, Sugar Cookies, Congo Bars, Lemon Bars, Almond Roca, Truffles, and other assortments of goodness. This was the time of year when she could make Spanish Cream, make her grandmother’s Egg Nog (a wonderful blend!), and indulge.
While the holidays were stressful (anything dealing with cooking/baking and company was stressful for her) she actually enjoyed the demands (we, as the targets of the stress, were not quite so enthralled). But, she was present, and there was a joy in being able to share and nibble (some of us vacuumed with our mouths) those tasty treats.
Today, Mom has no memory of any of this. In truth, surrounded by the sounds and tinsel of the season, she is unaffected; she seems oblivious but rather enjoys the music (I believe I once mentioned her demands that we bring along the Christmas 8-tracks on our summer trips) somewhere in the recesses of her mind.
No longer must she find a tree and decorate it - rather have me drive up, bring it in, put it up and decorate it. No longer has she her Star of Bethlehem shining in her picture windows over the Straits of Juan de Fuca. Many of the relic ornaments have been dispersed to family or others (those which didn’t fracture or just shatter over the years). She has people serving her and she seems to enjoy it, not recognizing her plight.
This week and the next I will be making some of her favorites and I will bring them in for her to eat and share (hahaha!) with others, just to see if there is some recall of the season in her senses (if they truly remain).
She no longer needs to worry about making it to Mass - the evening before or the morning of Christmas. Of course, she probably misses those Irish Creams and the good beverages (mulled wine, anyone?) galore that infused the house with delight.
Unfortunately, she will not be spending any portion of the holidays with any of us at our homes, at Mass, or outside of her residence. We must bring to her what we can. The stresses of confusion, unfamiliar sounds, smells, sights, are simply too much. We can come and visit with her, bringing with us necessities, flowers, cards, and perhaps other items that the staff may find helpful for her. Other than that, it’s just nothing that matters anymore.
Her life has become simple. She needs little at this time, but to be tended to.
Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow without laboring or weaving. (Matthew 6:28).
She radiates from the knowledge that she’s safe, cared for, and requires no reason to suffer.
Perhaps this is the best gift of all, and something difficult to swallow, but necessary to cherish and hold in awe.
Recipe for Mount Raniers:
IN a large bowl:
3 eggs beaten
Add 2 cups powdered sugar sifted
Add package melted chocolate chips 12 oz
1 tsp vanilla
pinch of salt
12-16 oz miniature marshmallows
1 cup nuts (walnuts) crushed.
roll into balls and then -
Drop into 1 large package angel flake coconut
Place on waxed paper. Then place in the fridge until hardened.
A favorite of my nephew's - Mom used to send him these as care packages for years.
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