Cooking for One

Since I arrived at the family home on the first of August, I have spent hours each day going through my parents' papers, and it's excruciating to see this stuff of lives knowing the lives it accompanied are gone. I've read truly countless bills and financial statements, but I've also come across love letters, a draft notice, an impressive collection of 60s Democrat memorabilia, old photos of people I don't recognize, loose bits and bobs, and the letters I sent my parents over the years, especially in the days before email.

One of my sisters told me there was more cat food in the trunk of my mother's car, and within this hour I encountered another motley array, recent purchases including some books, catnip, Christmas paper plates and wrapping paper, cat food and a box of instant amaretto cappuccino sachets. I expect the latter was for me and my expected visit later this month, as she knew I loved amaretto and had bought me Amaretto di Saronno as a Christmas present on at least one occasion, and on several visits home I'd bought the makings for amaretto sours and made them for my parents and I.

More sad were some of the books. There were a couple novels, apparently picked up secondhand, as well as a few nonfiction titles: the first I saw were Cooking for One and Facing Loneliness. My mother has struggled on her own since my father died in March 2009, and these titles, and, found a few minutes later, Healing Grief, struck me hard with the pain of her sorrow. I dearly wish I could have done more to mitigate it.