Peas, Potatoes, and Memories

For my birthday this weekend, I had Mom make creamed peas and potatoes. It's a dish I have consistently adored my entire life. I still adore it. But I have to admit that I'm hesitant to make it. The last time I did was more than 6 years ago.

Z-man and I were living in Grandpa Thompson's house. I was pregnant with Zippy and Grandpa was in very poor health. Along with various other ailments, he rarely ate much of anything. A side effect from some of his medications. The day after I made a batch of peas and potatoes (with new potatoes and peas from Grandpa's garden), I came home from work to find Grandpa on the floor of the bathroom. He'd had a heart attack, and had probably been lying there all day.

What a horrible evening that was.

John got home shortly thereafter. We got him up and John helped him get dressed and cleaned up. He was too stubborn to let me take him to the hospital, so we called my parents. While we waited for them, Grandpa ate a great big bowl of creamed peas and potatoes that I warmed up for him. It had been many months since I had seen him eat so much. And his casual comment that they tasted good nearly broke me.

They admitted him to the hospital, and he passed away not even 2 days later. My peas and potatoes, a dish Grandma had made him countless times over the years, was the last thing he at at home.

Maybe I should make them again as a celebration. Maybe I should--but I can't yet. I can eat them with only sweet memories. But making them myself seems somehow beyond me. Even though I know he'd shake his head and think I was being remarkably silly. And he's right. I am being silly, ridiculously silly. Maybe this year when my potatoes come in--maybe when I harvest from my yard just like he loved to do--maybe for the first time in my children's lives I can make them this dish. This food that has such deep roots in my soul of love and family.

Updates

I've been spending a lot of time trying to dig myself out of this house. It is not going quickly.

However, I have made significant progress in one area: my closet. With help from Kimmy and Christy, I managed to do this:

Yes, everyone, that is a clean and clear floor. In fact, that is what Z-man commented on first. Before he noticed I'd moved him out of the closet and into the dresser. LOL

Mmmm. Doesn't that look nice and organized. I'll eventually replace the boxes with bins in colors I like--but boxes are easier on the budget. As in free. I've gone in there just to stand and look and feel good. My closet may very well be my favorite room in the house now. And no, I don't have any before pictures. No one wants to see that--trust me. We cleared out more than would fit in a lawn-and-leaf garbage bag.

My most favorite part, though, isn't the organized clothes. Or the clear floor. Or knowing where everything is and being able to see it all. No, my favorite part is the enthusiasm with which Christy labeled my clothes:

He he he. This makes me giggle all the time. I don't just have socks. I have Socks!! And Layering Shirts!! I just love it. Now if I could just finish the downstairs bathroom. . . .