There was a crisp breeze and a decided chill in the air. It was a day so much like today. The sun came up; just like it does every morning. The birds pecked and flitted about; just like they do every day. But it all seemed to be in another dimension; Like I was seeing it all happen but was not really a part of it. Earlier, in the predawn hours, our family had lost a huge part of its unit. Merle Ann Webber-Terenyi (Ma, to all of us who knew and loved her) had taken her last breath and slipped peacefully into the waiting arms of her Savior. For her, the journey was over. For us, the path of grieving and healing was just beginning. I wanted nothing more than to wrap up in her fuzzy blanket and shut the world off.

What on earth does this have to do with food, you may be asking. Well, it has everything to do with food. You could not have been a part of Ma’s life without having experienced the joy of sitting around her table and noshing on some yummy little tid-bit she had made (while trying desperately not to roll away on those green leather chairs) . The lady could cook! She used to make these little pastries called Kifli – Pop’s favorite (of course, we all tried to replicate them for him around the holidays…uh, I am so not gifted in the Kifli making department…life is all about knowing your limits and I have found mine ;)  Whether it was Spritz cookies, Kifli, brownies, or the worlds most awesome strawberry shortcake – you knew if you were in Ma’s house, you were hanging out at the table  sipping coffee or orange zest tea and munching on something yum.

Kitchens are like that. They are kind of the goo of the home – the place people naturally congregate and spill all of life’s worries and griefs and triumphs and secrets. Ma was very much the goo of our family. We are close, but there is a definite hole. I cannot believe it has  been a year. I’ve missed so much, the quiet times around her table. I miss the rounds of Scrabble…which I NEVER won!…I miss the smell of dinner cooking while we chatted about this and that and nothing really at all. I’ve missed how soft her hands felt when she would hold mine and whisper something funny that Pop had done. I even miss the disapproving glare she would shoot me when I told Tom to change the baby’s diaper.

I’ve spent the past few weeks dreading this day. Knowing that I would watch my husband struggle and grieve all over again; knowing that I would experience the emptiness that comes with saying goodbye to someone who loves you – not because they have to; but because they chose to. It’s been a hard day. But at the end of it, here is what I know:
-I know that I will never again peel a potato the same. I still cannot make mashed potatoes without laughing about the way she tisked at me and then taught me “how it is supposed to be done!”
-No matter how justified you feel about what you say or do, you cannot take back the hurt you have caused – it leaves a scar long after the wound has healed. So, be wise and careful with your words and actions. Her passing taught me this.
-No matter how busy your life might be, take time to stop and listen to those around you. The dishes can wait; the laundry can wait; that pile of paperwork and the ever-ringing phone can wait – someone’s heart might not be able to wait. People are important. More important than tasks. Ma lived this by example.
Always keep a hot pot of coffee brewing. You just never know when someone might drop in – see above lesson :)
But most importantly
Families aren’t just made of the people who were born into them. They are an intricate pattern of people who were loved into them. Ma’s eternal legacy is a beautiful compilation of different men and women, boys and girls whose lives are forever changed because she opened her heart to them and called them family.

We miss you, Ma

Ma and Pop-one of my Favs!