"life's a bitch and then you die": my dad used to say this all the time.
I used to laugh when he would say it. Then he died and it seemed like a living mantra-- some weird wisdom he'd been telling himself everyday to prepare for his future. He really did have a "fuck it" kind of attitude and a brain aneurysm took him instantaneously.
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"..and then you die."
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Today is a decade since he died. A DECADE.
Time is really fucking with me. Ten years feels like both an instant and an eternity.
The pain isn't so sharp anymore, but the vastness is still there.
There are memories I choose to not spend much time with: remembering the phone call my Aunt gave me to tell me what happened still brings me to my knees and totally twists up my stomach; remembering the dream I had a few weeks before he died where he told me he was going to die-- thought that shit was a normal expression of anxiety, not a premonition; and the way his ashes felt in my hands when I let them go at a sacred site in Scotland-- remembering those little bits of bones passing through my fingers cuts straight to my heart.
Not sure why I'm sharing these intimate bits, but this is where I'm at today 🤷♀️
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So I made a decision this morning to listen to my sweeter memories and recreate my most favorite meal that my dad would make when I would spend the weekend with him: paper bag potatoes and a cheeseburger under the broiler.
He fried the potatoes until they were golden. Strained them before throwing them in a paper bag. He would sprinkle in salt and shake the bag up to catch the excess grease. The beef patties would go under the broiler with a sprinkle of garlic powder and salt. As soon as they were done he would throw a single slice of American cheese on them and wait for it to melt. We would eat them side by side at the table-- on potato rolls, just a little bit of ketchup, some pickles, and a glass of Polar soda.
Recreating this I was reminded that cooking is all about transformation and magic: simple ingredients, methodical preparation, and a focused intention is all you need to create the ceremony and honor your ancestors.
I love you Daddy, thank you for feeding me, and visiting us often❤
