Saying Goodbye

A few days ago I was reminded of Peggy, a woman I’d baked a quiche for last year.  I’ve not seen Peggy  since I delivered that quiche but  she lives near my friend Wanda and when I  bumped into Wanda at a meeting, I asked if she could tell me how Peggy was doing.  Wanda hesitated a moment and then she said, “She’s not doing very well.”

That conversation haunted me for a while.  Finally, yesterday I just “knew” that I should make another quiche for Peggy.  It was simple to do…I just sauteed some spinach and onions and then added some roasted peppers.  While that cooled I prepared a crust and arranged the vegetables, cheese and custard mixture inside and popped the quiche into the oven.  Once that was done, I called Wanda to confirm Peggy’s address and tell her of my plan.

When I told her that I wanted to bring a quiche to Peggy, Wanda said, “Honey, I don’t think she can eat that quiche.  She hasn’t had much of an appetite these last few days.”  Upon hearing this, I thought maybe my instincts were all wrong… but then I asked, “Is there someone with Peggy who might appreciate a quiche?”  And Wanda told me that Peggy’s daughter was there with her and she thought bringing her a quiche was a wonderful idea.

A little while later, I tapped on the door but no one answered.  Wanda had suggested that I just leave the quiche inside the front door and so I found a spot to leave it and walked back to my car.  But I couldn’t leave without explaining why I’d come and so I found a piece of paper and wrote about the only time I’d met Peggy and how pleased she’d been with the quiche, how honored I was to meet her, and how I wanted to visit her one more time.

As I opened the door to leave my note, I met Peggy’s daughter, Trisha, who didn’t seem bothered at all by my intrusion.  I briefly told her the reason for my visit, and then offered Trisha the quiche, which she gratefully accepted.  Then Trisha shared that she’d been with her Mom everyday for the past five weeks knowing full well that her time with her was coming to an end.  And as difficult as it was to do, it was clear that there was no place else that she would rather be.

A short while later, I was getting ready to leave and Trisha asked me if I worked outside of the home.  I told her that I catered sometimes but recently my kids have both left home and I was thinking of asking God (and anyone who was listening) for help finding a new job.  Then Trisha surprised me when she said, “Maybe you’re doing it right now.” As I walked to the car I thought, perhaps Trisha is right… maybe I am.

“A mother holds her children’s hands for a while, their hearts forever.” Author Unknown