Coming back from a funeral wake...I know as a community we are witness to a life that ended too soon. Many, many, many, many questions will never have satisfactory answers. NEVER.
How do we extract the fullness of a moment in passing? We berate ourselves for having been distracted and not present. In our defense we plead that our lives are busy and full and there is not the time to think about the true ingredients for our happiness, for our connection, or our nurturing sense of community. Most of the time, before a loss jolts us to our senses, we go through the motions and buy the pre-made, sugary, salted substitutes because they are easy to get, save us time, and satisfy the immediate cravings.
So let me argue for making REAL applesauce. It's really not that hard to make. It's about slowing down, taking a look at the basic ingredients, fondling the fruits of a farmer's labor, smelling the pot simmering on the stove, sprinkling the exotic spices, and reveling in the flavors made up of combining the real things that count. Death reminds us to count the moments and add up the ingredients to a savory full and healthy life.
I will miss my friend and the opportunities I ignored will haunt me. Now I vow to take a moment and smell the applesauce. The real applesauce, not the jarred stuff.
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