You know, its been a long time (finally) since the grief of losing my mom hit hard in public. It isn’t that I don’t miss her, because I do- but that in-your-face-reality and reminder hasn’t been present for a while. I haven’t missed it.
This morning, I ran to get some things at the grocery store with Baby B. We were happily chatting together and singing Wheels on the Bus for the eleventy millionth time today when we came around a corner and saw a display of Pfeffereneuse cookies. That too familiar lump rose in my throat, and tears filled my eyes. My heart kind of smashed into pieces. Mom. Pfeffereneuse. Dad. Sadness.
As I stood in front of these cookies, fighting those tears from dropping down my face with all my might, I argued with myself about buying them or not. Mind you, I don’t particularly LIKE these cookies- nor do I dislike them. They are just something mom used to make for dad, every single December, and only in December, right before Christmas, and I felt like maybe, just maybe, if I bought those stupid cookies that maybe my heart would feel just a tiny bit better. Maybe I’d miss my parents less.
Then I realized that there is no cookie that will make me feel better. No cookie can bring my mom back, and no cookie can make my dad’s brain work as it is supposed to again.
I left the cookies on the shelf.
I can’t bring my mom back, and I can’t get my dad’s progressive aphasia to reverse (there’s very good reason why they call it a progressive disease) but you know what?
I CAN make cookies.
This December, we’ll make Pfefferneuse. It’ll be a tribute to my mom, and I’ll bring some to dad on my Monday morning visits to him with Baby B.
Maybe my mom was just giving me a sign that she’s watching out for dad.
Maybe I’m just getting overly emotional with the holidays coming.
But those flippin’ Pfefferneuse cookies, man. Who knew cookies could be so emotional?
(PS if you want to try to make these, because they are good, there’s lots of recipes, but this is where I found the image for the Pfefferneuse).