Figuring out what I wanna be when I grow up.
Oop..I AM grown up...


Sunday, September 9, 2012

Regret

You know,

after my Mom died in 2010, I didn't allow myself to think about the could have/should haves.  I tried not to think about the whole "if only we had gotten her to stop smoking all those years ago."  I tried not to dwell on "if only we'd forced her to go to the doctor a lot sooner."

The past has happened.  There is nothing I can do to change it.  I couldn't have stopped my mother from smoking.  Only she could have done that.  Nobody could have forced her to go to the doctor any sooner.  She was very strong-willed.  Similarly, we couldn't have tried to get a better doctor for her.  How were we to know at the time that the specialist she saw was a complete, shameful sham, and that even in the end he never admitted she had stage four lung cancer.

I didn't dwell on these things.  There's no point, really.

I love(d) my mother, and I was simply thankful to have had her in my life.  Of course, I'm deeply saddened that I couldn't have her around for another thirty years.  After all, I see old ladies leading their very old mother's around in this city all the time.

Is that different than regret?  I'm not sure.  I just kind of thought of it as envy.

Well, anyway, recently I had been lamenting to my father that we haven't had a good cherry pie in three years.  There were no pies at all in that summer of 2010.  The official pie maker was gone.  And I'm talking about a good cherry pie.  No, not those pieces of garbage you can pick up at the grocery store.  Not those sub-par substitutes you can buy at a "farmer's" market.

No.  A good pie.  A pie that is not so thick with cornstarch that it's basically cherries suspended in some sickly sweet sludge, suspended in a cardboard crust.  I'm talking about a pie that is actually reminiscent of the fruit that came from the tree.  It has a crisp, flakey, delicious crust (never ever made with shortening and oil), and a tangy/sweet filling with actual juices that run free as soon as you slice it.

Sour cherries, after all, aren't easy to find.  So, I'd put my dad to the task: find me the cherries, I'll make you the pie.  I can make a damn good pie (incidentally, I often substitute butter for lard these days, thanks to inspiration from a fellow blogger).

Well, Dad outdid himself.  He somehow found the strength to go through that large time capsule in the basement:  the chest freezer.  We haven't been able to go through that freezer.  It's full of well-labeled meats, bread and frozen fruit.  I took one look at all those foil-wrapped packages one day, with my Mom's handwriting, and I shut that lid.  Uh-uh.  Nothing doing.  Sorry Dad, but I can't go there.  But surely, there were cherries in there.  After all, the world's most organized housekeeper had everything else.

So, recently Dad came with many freezer bags stuffed with frozen fruit, and The Man used his masterful organization skills and stuffed them into our small fridge freezer.  Last night I made the pie crust, wrapped it up and put it in the fridge for today, and was ready to make that damn pie.

And there were no cherries.  There were three great big bags of frozen blueberries, one of which had turned cherry red, and there was a very large bag of "5 1/2 cups" of rhubarb.  They're all garbage now; full of snow, and freezer-burnt.  I didn't realise this the day they were being stuffed into my own freezer.  And the dates on them:  2008, 2009.

Now this--this bothered me.  I hadn't felt a lot of regret about things we could have done, until now.  I wish I had gone into that freezer a lot sooner and used all that fruit my mother had painstakingly flash-frozen and transferred into labelled bags.  All of that fruit.  All of those good, jumbo blueberries.  And then I could have had a pie that was special--made with the last of what my mother was able to leave for us.  But it's all been poured into my backyard compost bin.

And yeah, I feel regret.

A lot of it.


sometimes regret is shaped like a pie.

26 comments:

  1. OH You will have to be the bearer of Pie Maker. Do it so your kids have no regrets. Do it so you can remember all the good. Do it so as the kids grow, you can tell them this is what grandmas pies were like. For Pete's Sake Karen, don't regret those pies or frozen berries. Make that incredible memory of your mother TASTE GOOD. There should be no regrets. She passed on to you wonderful tasty memories. She passed on to you the ability to know the difference between cardboard crust, and a pie you slice and it runs. She passed on to you what many of us (ME) never had. EVER. I am not chastising you , I want to encourage you to fill those kids hearts and minds full of good things. Pour out on them, all the good things your mum gave you. You will reap the reward 10 fold one day.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You're right Melissa, and you gave me a better perspective on things, so thank you.

      Delete
  2. aw hugs honey the truth is to this day my younger brothers refuse to eat apple pie because grandma didn't make it. I don't care how amazing it taste they will not eat it and if you can get them to take a bite they will find something about it to complain about. such is life i guess

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I still make a damn good pie, becca, but I regretted not using all that precious frozen fruit. I miss my grandma's pie too! She never used a recipe.

      Delete
  3. When you are ready, you will make the pies. Regrets are hard ones to deal with, I have one, but I also know that it was not my fault. You played that hand you were delt, we do not know who cheats or who has the jokers in their hand. I know what you mean about the writing, I have a whole recipe box filled that I can not bare to do anything about because of her hand writing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, I made the pie, but I was sad that all that fruit was garbage. Yes, I'm glad you understand about the handwriting thing too. It's so personal, isn't it.

      Delete
  4. All one can do in life is to try and do better each new day.

    ReplyDelete
  5. aw, kar! your mom left behind way more than just some frozen fruit. she left behind the memory of the possibilities of great pies. and you've got the knowledge of how to make them. that came from her too, right? think of it this way - you can give a woman a pie filling and feed her for 2 days or you can teach her how to make her own pies and fill the bellies and rot the teeth of her family for a lifetime.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. ah! Profound, touching, and funny all at the same time! Very good, Sherilin. Leave it to you to come up with that :) Made me feel all better.

      Delete
    2. oh good. i was hoping it wouldn't be too irreverent.

      Delete
  6. The way I get it, regret can be useful if you learn from it. Guilt, never. Anyway, it's sad.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Oh love. Today is my late Mama's birthday. I know about this loss and regret too. I feel it so keenly at this time of year. There are no platitudes. There is just sorrow and a hug from me from far far away. Sarah xxx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. thank you Sarah. You are, as always, stunning and awesome.

      Delete
  8. Oh Sweetheart...Hard hugs sent your way.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I'm so sorry Karen. I wouldn't have been able to go through that freezer either. You can't change how you felt at the time, and there's nothing wrong with that. Next June, get out there and pick some sour cherries, and make yourself a pie.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. you're right Beth. I'm getting there...just a little slower than I wanted.

      Delete
  10. What a Heartfelt Post my Friend. I guess I was Hoping, as I read this, that when your Dad went thru that Time Capsule of a Freezer he would have discovered one of your Mum's Pies! I so wanted this Story to have a Happy ending for you both as you sat and savored one last time a Pie made by the Master Pie Maker in your Family! Alas, regrets are one of Life's obstacles and Hopefully make us do those things Now and in the Future that we suspect we might have more regrets about?

    As for those Old Ladies wheeling their Old Mums around it is a double edged sword of sorts. My Mum is now 80 years old and has had years of failing Health and lower quality of Life than I would wish upon anyone. We had to make the difficult decision last year to move her to a Nursing Home... then to my Brother's Home... and then to another Nursing Home when Social Services determined that her needs were just too great for even the best intended Family Member to handle. My Dear Dad passed many years ago and though I miss him every single day, it was somehow easier losing him and knowing where he is now than it has been to endure the long suffering along with my Dear Mom. Nobody wants to lose a Loved one... and yet, Quality of Life versus Quantity of Life is one of those dilemmas that I feel very conflicted about. So sorry for your Loss and your regrets and I Hope Sharing them has somehow managed to ease them a mite bit? A Big Hug from the Arizona Desert... Dawn... The Bohemian

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. actually Dawn, this story you've shared about your mother gives me new perspective as well. I guess I never quite thought of it that way. Reality vs imagination. Hrm. I am sorry about your Mom though, and sorry you're without your dad.

      Delete
  11. Mia Bella Vintage.
    Interesting.
    Got the same point of view from Vintage Mittens and Vintage Precious.
    Then it came through again from Babylon Reader, too.
    He did it with pianos , drums and horns.
    It came out in chocolate cake .

    ReplyDelete
  12. Oh Karen, regret is such a hard set of thoughts and emotions to deal with, and of course the main feature is that it's gone, you can't change what's happened. It's such a sad story, filled with the resonance and symbolism of mums caring for their families, feeding them, teaching them, being thrifty and capable and prepared. It's so much more than fruit.
    I wonder what your mum would have said to the situation? Would she have shaken her head and chuckled at you for being sentimental? Scolded you for not using the fruit in time? Or just given you a hug and said it's OK? I don't think she would want you to be so sad. xxxxxxx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Curtise, I'm glad you asked. My mother would have shaken her head with disapproval over all that wasted fruit! She was so practical, that she would have thought practicality would over-rule emotion. I also know that she had some sixth sense of what was happening to her and went into auto-pilot mode and super organized that freezer a few months before she died. It's kind of like pregnant ladies feel an overwhelming urge to get things in order in the house right before the baby comes.

      Delete
  13. Very heartfell post. I agree with those that say you must continue the tradition. Regret shouldnt stop or slow down future progress! So while you didnt get to save those berries, you WILL eventually find some (with the help of your dad perhaps) and make that darned good pie for everyone to enjoy.

    ReplyDelete

I lurv comments. Thank you for the comments. They are scrumptious.

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails