change is a comin'

S is for Sad......and for the mysterious appetite that often surges in us when our hearts seem to be breaking and our lives appear too bleakly empty. Like every other physical phenomenon, there is good reason for this hunger, if we will be blunt enough to recognize it."
--M. F. K. Fisher, An Alphabet for Gourmets

The most beautiful sound caused me to catch my breath as I scraped warm wax from a board this evening. A magical, simple pleasure that made my mind and heart travel back fifteen years to a time when that sound belonged to a much smaller incantation of the one I'd just heard. Back to the easy days of holding small hands crossing the street, catching 40 pound bodies as they plummet down the park slide and cutting crusts from peanut butter sandwiches. To a time when the tugs at the heart were associated with fleeting desires to have them stay this way forever-to never grow up and to continue to delight in the innocent pleasure of the sway of a lazy sprinkler on a hot summer day. The sound was so familiar to me that on many another day, with different tasks filling my minutes and engaging my brain, it has gone unnoticed-simply continuing its bounce off the wall and up the stairs to dissolve in the beeswax fumed air of my studio. But this evening it captured me. Grabbed my heart and filled my thoughts with smiles. A laugh: The free flowing, still innocent laugh of a child. Deeply resonating in its post-pubescent growth and full of presumed-self knowing that would daily be challenged by this worlds rough edges; the laugh was still mine- still his. Still held the timber of the three foot tall, chipmunk-cheeked youth slipping through spring-mud filled grass. It captured me now for the bittersweet warmth of its existence-soon to be gone. Soon to exist in the vacuous silence of my reminiscing alone. Exist only in the memory of its once innocent flutter from the sofa, up the stairs and to my concentrating ears and mommy heart. feed the hunger. in love. trish

Brian's favorite rhubarb berry crisp
'crisp':

1 c flour

1c brown sugar

1 c quick oats

1 t cinnamon

2 sticks butter, melted and cooled

Mix the crisp ingredients until crumbly. Press 1/2 the mixture into a greased baking dish. Spread 4-5 c chopped rhubarb and assorted seasonal berries over this base. In a saucepan blend

1 c sugar

3 T flour

1 t vanilla

1 1/2 c water

Cook this mixture until it thickens (about 5 minutes) then pour over the fruit. Spread the remaining 1/2 of the crisp over this layer and bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour. Allow to cool and dig in. It only gets better with time~and a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream!

I make this for Brian, exclusively. He can eat a 10x14 dish of it in three days easy; that's if he's pacing himself.

what is one thing you think of that always makes you smile?

My 13 year old asked me this last week. Remember, I have all boys. That makes it my 13 year old SON asked me this last week. Is anyone else raising their eyebrows in amazement?! And, from a mother's point of view, how freakin' precious is this!!?

I have been told he has an old soul. He can ask things, and give his interpretation of situations, with more maturity and human understanding than the best of the 'grownups'. He has left me slack jawed in awe on many an occasion. Don't get me wrong; he'll leave the frig open and track mud through the house with the best of them!

Patrick is my fourth and youngest child; therefore the one to get my name, so to speak, since a girl was not in the mix. I never pined for one mind you-I haven't spent a day wishing for a girl since laying on the ultrasound table for the third time and hearing, yep there it is!~I adore the name Patrick and it was fun to name someone after me~

I answered his query with the first thing that came to mind; my boys. But it stuck in my head that that just isn't quite it. I mean, really, do your children make you smile all the time?! I think not! Children bring more blistering frustrations and sometimes even love testing dilemmas than any other relationship can even come close to. So I had to rethink his line of questioning...

A few days later a more appropriate response struck me, and an ironic one at that. What always makes me smile when I think of it is the time he and I spent eight days in Children's Hospital. Wow. See the irony?! And three of those days were in intensive care. While the time there was painful, scary, frustrating and all around gut wrenching, the memories I carry from it are of a connection. He and I spent eight days joined in the single biggest event of his life; eating, sleeping and even breathing just inches from each other every moment. But when there were minutes not filled with needles, tubes and tests, I would push him on his IV pole through the halls-take pictures standing next to all of the animal sculptures-and when he started building his strength, try to do wheelies through the vacant halls in his wheelchair. All this went down four years ago in May. He and I spent Mother's day looking out the window of his room and testing the wheel chair on a newly discovered hallway with an incline :)

That time at Children's matched that of giving birth to my third son and soon after being frantically wheeled to surgery for blood transfusions and strange lasers. Scary. Nay, terrifying. But when you come out on the other side of things like that, able to smile, reflect and be oh so grateful for the minutes that have come after, even the terrifying can make you smile. in love. trish