Mint chicken

Izzy is really into mint chocolate. Anything mint chocolate. “Mom, I really love it. I would even try mint chicken” and then a memory came back  “You know, a long time ago, I made Dada mint chicken and it was terrible. He couldn’t eat it, even though he tried. I ended up throwing the rest away.” We laughed about it.

 That awful dinner I cooked. The look on his face. So funny. The memory that came back so strongly. Where do we store them? Can I get more of those forgotten times? How? What happens to them? Where does it all go? When I die-where does that memory go? Where does that time go?  A few weeks ago, on a social media site, there were pictures of mothers breastfeeding their babies through the ages. I looked at each one. Photos of mothers watching their babies and babies beaming back at them. Each had their own story, their own love. Where is it now? What happens to it?  Of course, because I am still here, my love and memories of John live on, of course that love continues for the families in those pictures but what about when we die? Where do those feelings, experiences and time go?

2 thoughts on “Mint chicken”

  1. Mint chicken…What a great story! Oh I bet he wanted to love the dish because he loved you and the food you made.

    A part of John lives on, as well as a part of you Laura, in your 2 beautiful girls. Maybe making a scrapbook of his life would be a great way to honor John. His pictures, music, his handwritten letters and notes, the cologne he wore. Anything and everything that made him, Him: a loved and special individual.


  2. I’m back! Well actually I never left that bubble with you and the girls. I just needed a few days after my surgery to hide for a bit.

    Your postings are the most beautiful words I read. I can see you through tears writing this tribute to not only John but to you and the girls also.

    Mint chicken, that is funny to me as I can see it happening like it were yesterday. It reminds me of some of the funny things that I have done in my lifetime! These thoughts, feelings, stories that you write will be remembered by those of us that read about them but mostly by your girls. Keep the stories coming ! Your stories will be repeated to their children and their children’s children and so on. They will not be lost. Somewhere in their minds a memory hides and something will trigger a new memory. Your blog will keep these memories going and will remind them of their “Dada” and the love he had for you and them.

    John was one lucky guy to have someone love him, even though it was such a short time, as you do….


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