Where is the Wisdom

 

During the past few months, I have written stories about my family, things we have done together, and how I feel about Christina not being here physically.  While I think about all of these stories, events, and feelings, it becomes evident, to me, that there is a great deal of randomness in our lives; there is no master plan.  

Of course, we all have goals and fantasies, things we would like to do.  To attempt to accomplish these things we create paths in our minds, others write them in steps or priorities.  These paths help us stay focused on these goals, but what I have experienced is that the actual execution of these steps takes place in an ether we live in not in isolation.  Naturally, the path to our goals is heavily modulated by the environment we are in; by our lives.

Christina and I had many plans. A recurring fantasy was to have a long holiday with her.  We often talked about going to a warm place and simmering our bodies on a white sand beach.  Sorry girls, this fantasy only included Mom and me; no kids in this dream which hits at the idea that was going to be profoundly intimate. 

It continues to be difficult for my daughters; they were both very close to their mother, more than anyone could imagine.  This is normal because their lives were developing around their mother, and she was an exceptional one.  

I cannot occupy the vacuum left by Christina and can only take a more active role in their development.  The message I pass to my daughters is that they can continue to learn from their mother; she lives in their memory.  My intention is not to delegate to the memory of their mother to help them with their journey and I truly believe Christina can continue to be a source of inspiration to reach their goals.

Tomorrow is Christina's birthday and it will mark the third year we celebrate October 24th without her.  I will make Chicken Paprikash, her favorite meal.  Raquel is preparing a cake, she started today and she is baking away as I type.  I bought a bottle of Tokaji, a classic Hungarian dessert wine to have a little toast to her memory.  

Undeniably, Christina is still part of our lives.

When I started writing these stories my objective was to record my experience during almost 30 years of getting to know someone.  I have written a few stories about myself and that was not the intention.

This post does not have to make sense.  It feels like I am rambling, just writing things down as I talk to myself in this perennial monolog.  Perhaps, all I am doing is trying to make sense of what has happened as I move through time.

Bread, Honey, and Paint

We have not made bread at home in a long time.  The kind of bread we usually bake is heavy, multigrain, good for breakfast, not fluffy, and leaves a sensation of satisfaction when you eat it any time of the day.  A toast from this bread goes well with butter and honey, but it is also great with a couple of fried eggs on top.  You might not find this appetizing, but I do.  Sometimes I put a slice of whichever cheese I find in the fridge, a slice of salami, and the eggs on top.  Livia enjoys that kind of savory toast, but Raquel does not care; she is a waffle girl.

The recipe that we always use for making heavy-grain breakfast bread calls for honey, however, next to that line there is a note from Christina - "Use sugar instead".  Her bread was always wonderful.  The bread is now baking and I am waiting for the timer to go off to get it out of the oven and leave the loaf to cool overnight on a rack. I am looking forward to a slice!

Over the weekend I painted the window frame of the living room.  It was an old overdue project of ours.  

Before Christina was diagnosed with cancer we started to paint the inside of the home.  She planned the job very carefully, taking pictures of the walls and discussing colors with me and a close friend of hers who is an interior decorator.  I agreed to the color selection and Christina and I started painting.  The new wall colors give a warm feeling to our home.

After the cancer diagnosis, the painting project had to be put on the back burner as we focused on her getting better.  

In the summer of 2020, after she recovered from her first surgery and finished her chemotherapy and radiation, we continued the renovation and finished all the walls except the living room window frame.  It is done now.  I stand in front of the window to admire the result and hear Christina's voice - "It looks great Jose, thanks for finishing".