For The Love Of Produce, and Moms

I wanted to blog about our local Farmer’s Market that I love so much for the best finds in beautiful organic produce.  I had a story to share of how I’d run into one of my mom’s oldest and dearest friends; that we talked for half an hour reminiscing memories of mom, catching up on the family one by one.  I was going to note that I did not miss the irony of this conversation with a woman who has known me most of my life as it was happening under the tent of Deep Roots Organic Farm stand.

I was going to tie in the random musings of my weekend to my first Mother’s Day without my mom.  I had the perfect chosen words that embraced this day; how I spent it in the kitchen baking,  flooded with memories of my mom.  Baking was one of my mom’s favorite past times and she was a darn good baker.  It felt right to be creating in the room that she loved the most; that I love the most.

Clearly, this blog is not my intended.  I did spend my day in the kitchen baking after returning from an early breakfast with my dad.  I used my lovely rhubarb I purchased from the Farmer’s Market to make a delicious Gluten Free Rhubarb, Lemon and Almond Cake as well as some rhubarb chutney to be used for our appetizers and dinner later.



While I certainly had plenty of memories surrounding my mom, there were no lovely sentiments floating through my mind that I was eager to blog about.  I had no desire to sit down to my lap top and blog out memories or feelings or recipes.  I had no desire to even look at anything on line other than the few recipes I’d intended to play with for the day.  I stayed away from all my social media and email.  Reading condolences, prayers and thoughts of me on this very difficult day was not something I could bear to see.  I felt too much pain in my heart.  Seeing pictures and shares from my family was not what I wanted to see on this day.  Nor did I want to see glowing, gushing remarks about others’ own mothers.  I needed to protect my heart.

I mentally prepared for this Mother’s Day the best I could.  I thought I was doing fairly well.  But, when this day arrived I was anything but well.  I had a heavy heart and was low in spirit.   My sweetie had to work so I was on my own to get through this day without completely falling into inconsolable despair.  It was rough.  Rough.  I cried.  A lot.  I wanted to be alone.  I felt lost in anguish several times.

I got through the day and I am recovering emotionally.  Grief is like a hard slap in the face.  I think I’ve got this; I can handle it.  I have a tool box filled with useful mantras and such to help me face any challenge.  While all this is true, grief is so heavy I simply forget to do the many things I know are good.  It is too hard.  Too overwhelming.  It continuously catches me off guard, even when I think I feel strong.  Indeed, it is a painful process.

So, I’ll share my pictures, but the original story is changed.  I can tell you how happy the market produce makes me feel.  I can say the baking and playing in the kitchen all day did give moments of contentedness.  The big picture still remains.  I am forever changed with the death of my mom.  I feel like I now search for a new place; one that I hope will someday bring me peace in my loss.

Although I am one day late of the officiated day, personally, I think Mother’s Day is every day and I bet most mom’s would agree.  We need to celebrate ourselves more and give kudos to the people who have the hardest job in the world.  I wish you all a blessed day; every day.

I love you, mom.  I miss you terribly.  I am beginning to appreciate you in ways I never imagined.  I am thankful for you.  Happy Mother’s Day to you–somewhere over the rainbow.

beautiful radishes

beautiful radishes

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My take home stash

My take home stash