For anyone who’s lost a parent (or two), the discomfort of feeling orphaned can be unbearable. My mother passed away on November 16th, a week before my family was to visit her for Thanksgiving. My dad has been gone for nearly 21 years and her death brings back all those feelings of loss.

While I grew up in Northeastern Ohio, my widowed mother spent the last 12 years of her life in assisted living in S. Carolina. I didn’t see her often, but we talked on the phone at least a few times a month. I miss her voice. I took for granted she’d always be on the other end of a call.

Golden Boy

My only brother (out of 5 children) took the baton and ran with it when my dad requested he “take care of my mother” right before he passed away.

This was no simple task. My mother developed dementia when she was in her mid 70’s and consequently was moved a few times until finally being placed in a memory care facility. My brother was her medical and legal POA. We had dubbed him Golden Boy years ago. He has always deserved the title.

Like many older adults, Mom had a few falls, but thankfully didn’t break anything. Or, so we thought. Upon having an x-ray after a fall last April, it was discovered that she had a few broken ribs and late stage cancer (kidney or lung, we’re not sure). She was given 1 to 3 months to live. We were devastated.

Blissful Ignorance

We didn’t pursue further cancer testing because why put her through the pain of biopsies when we weren’t going to seek treatment? Palliative care was the best option. We siblings knew that cancer treatment wasn’t going to change her outcome we and didn’t want her to suffer.

Except for my brother being near my mom, my sisters are spread out across the US. One in Youngstown, one in Phoenix, one in Virginia Beach, and me in Cincinnati. Reunions are difficult but we will certainly do better moving forward.

We all went to see Mom over Memorial Day for her 87th birthday, worried she would pass before the summer’s end. Given her dementia, we didn’t tell her about her diagnosis or prognosis.

While this may seem cruel, we thought it best for her. She may or may not have remembered she had cancer. She never complained of being in pain and if she did, we had orders for pain meds. She didn’t suffer in the end, which was a blessing.

Thyme to Speak

My siblings know that I spend a lot of time writing and was also one of the last people to speak to Mom before she passed. I had the honor of writing and giving her eulogy at her funeral on Black Friday in Youngstown, Ohio. Appropriately named, in my opinion. It was the most difficult 600 words I’ve ever written.

While I rarely cooked when I lived at home, my Mom shaped my life and career in so many ways. Any time I make soup, I think of her! Below is my eulogy as well as a modified version of her Italian wedding soup.

I hope it gives you as much comfort as it does me and my family.

Ode to Mom:

Mom used to say, I always had to have the last word. So, it only seems fitting that I do her that honor today.

Looking back, I thought I was like Dad at my core:

·         I run into people and can chew the fat for hours

·         We share the same beef about grades.  Iris and Maria will tell you that anything below a C was typically met with, “You can do better than that!”

·         He would have relished making food puns with me.

But really, Mom took the cake when it came to inspiring my life.

She spent most of her ‘thyme’ cooking and feeding other people. I remember sifting through her Betty Crocker and Angel’s and friends' cookbooks, though she rarely used recipes. Cooking was ingrained in her DNA.

I imagine her in the kitchen of 34 Beechwood hovering over a pot of soup or spaghetti sauce with a palm full of salt. Like I said, making meals was always on her plate. Food was love.

Dinner was often left for you on the stove after band or track practice. Refrigeration? Optional.

She wasn’t one to make an alternate if you didn’t like the dinner menu. You ate it, or you went hungry. My least favorite was salmon patties. “Why do I even bother?” she’d say.

Mom didn’t always follow the rule, “When in doubt, throw it out”. “It’s still good”.

I have a hard time tossing things, too. It’s a blessing and a curse. She instilled the value of appreciating what we had and not being wasteful, which is most important.

We girls shared our hand-me-downs so it’s no wonder we all love the thrill of the thrift shop.

Wedding soup, homemade pizza, and chocolate chip cookies are house favorites. “Do you make your own meatballs?”. I’m embarrassed to say, I don’t.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I chose a career so focused on food. Speaking of which,

Mom had some sage nutritional advice including:

·         Water- it’s the best thing for you.

·         Eat fruit to stay regular!

·         A little goes a long way.

·         Don’t waste food.

She was also really proud of our family. Mom didn’t like attention on herself but was quick to dish about Dad, Frank, us sisters, and grandkids.

No matter where she lived, her walls were peppered with pictures of our family.

When she heard Olivia was expecting her first baby, she said, “Well, isn’t that something!”. She got excited over the littlest and BIGGEST things.

Mom also didn’t mince words:

·         Don’t toot your own horn. It’s important to stay humble.

·         “Wherever you put it, that’s where it is”. This is accurate, snarky, and not necessarily helpful. But it taught us to appreciate what we had and take care of it.

·         If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. In such an unkind world, this is a simple recipe to follow.

·         My personal favorite: If you don’t expect anything, you’re never disappointed. We expected mom to pass right after her diagnosis but she surprised us with 5 more months.

About 10 years ago, she came to Cincinnati for Thanksgiving. I said I can finally use your good china and silverware. Her reply was, “Oh, don’t go to all that fuss. It’s just dinner”. I used it anyway.

She’d find it funny that we obsessed about what to eat for Thanksgiving when she taught us that the most important thing was that our family was all together.

We are so lucky to have each other. Mom’s greatest gift to us was each other. I see mom in all of us.

The day after my birthday, Mom had the last word: “Thanks for calling, Lisa.

I love you very, very much”.  RIP Mom

Mom’s Wedding Soup (simplified)

Ingredients:

One pound skinless chicken breast

8 cups low-sodium chicken broth

2 Tbsp. canola oil          

½ yellow onion, diced

4 large carrots, peeled & cut into coins

4 stalks celery, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

6 frozen turkey meatballs, quartered

1 (10 oz) box of frozen spinach

4 cubes of chicken bouillon

¾ cup rice or tiny pasta (acini di pepe or orzo)

Directions

1. In a large pot, boil the chicken in broth for 15 to 20 minutes until fully cooked.

2. Remove the chicken and set aside to cool, then cut into 1/2 inch pieces.

3. Skim any fat from the broth and set the broth aside.

4. In a separate large pan, add the oil and sautee the onions, carrots, celery and garlic for 5 to 7 minutes or until the onions are translucent.

5. Add the cooked vegetables to the broth along with the cooked chicken, quartered meatballs, box of spinach, and cubes of bouillon.

6. Simmer the soup on medium heat for 20 minutes until the vegetables are soft.

7. Add the rice or pasta for the last 10 minutes of cooking the soup.

8. Serve with shredded Parmesan cheese. (optional)

Makes 8 servings.  Per serving: 241 calories, 9.38 gm fat, 1.9 gm saturated fat, 19 gm carb, 3.4 gm fiber, 23.5 gm protein, 46 mg cholesterol, 314 mg sodium