After I went on and on about how tuna casserole is a comfort food, my dad asked me to make one for him, which I gladly did today. I made it the old “traditional” way that my mom originally made it, thinking he would like it, but apparently she had made modifications to it over the years which he preferred. Oh well, I will do better next time! But while I was there at the house, he wanted me to take some of her things with me. I don’t think he can bear to go through it piece by piece and figure out what to do with it.
All Mother’s little things. Her shoes, her slippers, her clothes, her purses, her hats, even her hair clips. They are hers, and I felt funny pawing through them. I don’t know why they can’t just stay there in their house. I could just imagine her saying, “Oh, no! Not my shoes!” And she would also hate that her favorite purse has to go. I guess the bottom line is that I just hate that she’s not here anymore. I keep expecting her to come walking out of the bedroom and inject some lively happiness into our lives again.
So, we put all the stuff in the trunk of my car, and when I got home I put it all aside. I made myself a cup of coffee and washed my car. I was trying to find little chores to do outside because I just wanted to be outside. It was colder than I thought it should be so I didn’t want to take the violin out to practice in the backyard. I do that sometimes, and I play for an audience of chickens. I suppose it just sounds to them like another hen squawking.
Another day, another surreal experience. Things definitely are not like they used to be.