There's something about the rituals of everyday life that begin to heal over wounds and grief. We know this, of course, but it's hard to trust that it's true when one needs it the most. Then it turns out to be right - you realize that you had completely forgotten to be in pain while you, say, fold the laundry or get out the summer clothes. It doesn't completely go away but you get a break and the breaks get longer every day and, pretty soon, it become just a dull ache. Because of this truth I've decided that it's not a betrayal of my friend to get on with life and the things that need to be done, but rather it would be a betrayal of myself not to.


With this realization I began processing carrots for pickling. I still have several pints but, for some reason I can't remember, I bought ten pounds more and something must be done with them. So pickles it is - I've canned things like carrot cake or other sweet breads in the past but doing so is no longer recommended for long term storage and I really hate sweet relishes so spicy dilled carrots are just the thing. We covered pickles here in depth already so I won't go on too much about it but this time things will be just a little different - I'm documenting the process with photos and text for an online craft and DIY site. Should be interesting, no?


Other than the pickles I'm still formulating my canning plans for the summer. Cherries and berries will be first and I can't wait. Last year's strawberry jam didn't set up so I've got lots of "coulis" (some of which was used in Easter Sunday's trifle) so I'm trying a new recipe and a different type of pectin. I'm not sure why various pectins work differently - maybe it's kind of like yeast in that way - but I intend to find out.

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We're back from J.'s funeral. It was awful.


She did give us all two final gifts, though. The first was the opportunity to visit with long missed college friends who came from far and wide to support her husband and say goodbye. Sad that it took this horrible event to prod us to seek each other out, but there you are. There were several receptions and wakes and there was much joy in sharing happy memories with each other. Of course, we've all exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addresses and made promises for a proper reunion next year. I really think it will happen, too.


The other gift was that we have all come to realize that we are not immortal and plans and preparations must be made. Many of us have children, aging parents or partners to whom we are not married and these people must be protected. One of the fraternity brothers (J.'s and my husbands are brothers - this is how we met in the first place) is an estate attorney and brought everyone information on steps we need to take now. J. died intestate - without a will - and this means extra hassle and expense for her family. A bunch of us wanted to head over to his office to talk right after the service, but he declined saying he had no intention of profiting from the occasion and he would make recommendations if we needed them. Very cool.


So now my husband and I have an appointment to create a will as a first step with the goal of putting together a trust within a year or so to provide further protection for the kids and to make sure that our wishes are carried out with regards to their care should we die together. We are also buying more life insurance, needed since we now have two children.


If you have not already and you have loved ones that require your help and protection even in the event of your death, please see to this. As we're finding, it will definitely cost (and we're gulping just a bit at the expected bill), but think how much more is at stake. If you can't afford the fees, at least write your wishes down and have the whole thing dated, signed and notarized. At least that way you'll have some record of what you want done in the event of your death. For more information, go here. Promise me you'll take care of this, o.k.?

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One of the great gifts of having children is that it is impossible to wallow, whether in sorrow or anything else. One simply must get on with getting on. There are Easter baskets to fill, eggs to hide, games to play, meals to prepare and clothes to wash. I remember reading somewhere that immersion in activities is a good way to deal with grief, that doing so helps to remind of the life remaining to be lived and not missed in a haze of sadness. If this is true, then having kids is an excellent way to follow such advice.


So we're feeling a bit better today. I do reserve my right to have a meltdown on Tuesday, however. Despite the expected pleasure of seeing friends and long lost classmates, there will be nothing to distract us from the reality that we wouldn't be together at all if not for a monumental loss. There's a huge hole in our lives and, even if I'm cried out for the moment, I don't dare think that I'll remain dry eyed or serene as I say goodbye to someone I loved so much.


Yesterday the Boy Wonder asked me why I was sad. How do you explain this to a three year old? I told him that Miss J. has very bad owies and that the hospital couldn't make her better and that I wouldn't be able to see her or talk to her anymore and that I would miss her since she'll be living in heaven with the angels. And he said, "Mommy, why don't you eat some mango jam. I'm happy when I have mango jam." I smiled and started to cry (again) and he said, "Maybe Miss J. would like some mango jam, too, to share with her angels."


Today as my family celebrates rebirth, resurrection and salvation (both the big-S and little-S kind) and see all around us signs of spring, we remember all of our gifts. The gifts of pleasing those we love, of sharing our bounty and of having known a dear friend at all. It's not about having lost her, it's about having found her in the first place.

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