Goodbye to a Good Friend

Good bye to my neighbor J. I will miss you, but I know that you are with your husband once again, free of cancer and in a much, much better place than this one. 

My neighbor, who was also a good friend, passed away this week. Yesterday, in an attempt to console her family, I tried to make oatmeal cookies for them. But I couldn't concentrate. I stumbled around the kitchen mis-measuring and spilling everything. The first dozen cookies came out undercooked, flat, and flimsy. The second batch came out only a little better. It was the dinner hour and I had spent all my time struggling to make these stupid cookies, which at the time seemed so much more important than cooking for my own family. But clearly, the cookie idea wasn't going to work. In desperation, I spooned the rest of the batter into a pie dish and baked it until the top looked nice and golden. But when I touched the middle, it wiggled a bit, as if chuckling at me. 

I yanked the cookie pie out of the oven and stabbed it with a small spatula, hacking out the soggy middle like a maniac. Fortunately, I came to my senses before I pulverized the whole thing and realized some of it could be salvaged for the family. So I took the good parts next door.

My neighbor's brother answered my knock. "I made you a treat," I said as I handed him the goods. He looked at the shapes on the platter in the dim light, trying to figure out what I had brought them. 

"They're cookies--or cookie pie," I explained. He looked confused. I could tell I was going to mess this up. Once again, I was going to say the wrong thing. So I kept it short. "I've had a bad day in the kitchen," I said, then left. 

But that's not what I really wanted to say. What I really wanted to say was I have lost a friend. I know she's with Heavenly Father, and I know that she's back with her husband, but I miss her a lot. And you must miss her so much more. So here's what I have to give you: a sorry attempt to provide you with some nourishment as you mourn. Maybe this will make you feel better? For a minute or so? Because that's what I want to do--make you feel better. And this is the only way I know how.

I didn't say any of that, though. I know that food cannot make up for losing a friend, a sister, a wife, a mother. I know because I had eaten quite a few of the failed cookies while making them. Yet afterward, my friend and neighbor was still gone. And I didn't feel any better.

Comments

[shelby]

I am sure the message was received exactly the way you wanted it to be received. Its those little heartfelt moments of service that mean so much when a loved one is lost. Two years after my grandma's passing, I (and my family) still hold dear all the little acts of kindness meant to pass on condolences. My grandma passed away planting flowers and my uncles ex-wife came over that evening and finished planting the flowers. She didn't say anything, she just quietly snuck out back, planted them and left. It meant so much. I am sure they appreciated your oatmeal masterpiece.

[LauraB.]

I am so sorry Susan. I know you had spent some quality time with this woman and became close to her. I'm glad she wasn't in pain too long before the end and that she is with her husband once again.