Sunday we went to sprinkle my mom’s ashes in the ocean. Of course, my mom had already paid for and arranged everything (because that’s who she is) so it was just a matter of choosing a date and showing up. I know you would imagine this day to be incredibly emotional and that I would be sobbing over my goodbyes to my mom. No. This is not how it was at all. I tend to get very very VERY terrible motion sickness. I can’t even stand on a dock without wanting to throw up. So going on a boat to scatter ashes had me in a high state of serious anxiety. I was so focused on not barfing, that I couldn’t think of anything else. I took Dramamine, I wore anti-nausea bracelets, I had a bottle of sparkling water and a cut up lemon with salt to suck on (this works – trust me). I was still terrified I would toss my cookies over my mom’s ashes. I didn’t. I made it through. But it was definitely distracting enough where I was not consumed by sadness. I was consumed with keeping my breakfast in my stomach. In the end, it actually turned out to be a beautiful day, gorgeous weather, perfect company… and … fun. Can I call sprinkling my mom’s ashes fun? After a while, I think we all momentarily forgot that it was the reason we were all together on a boat in Sausalito. My cousin even brought a speaker and we listened to oldies as we lounged in the sun. I’d like to think that my mom would have been pleased by all the laughter and conversation and music.
And its strange, but… the next day I woke up with such a feeling of… freedom? I’m not sure freedom is the right word. But … for so long my mom was the person that grounded me. That brought me back down to earth when I was over-freaking, over dreaming, over-in love, over-worrying, over-angry… And I found a great deal of comfort in that. But now… I don’t have that tether. So it feels vaguely like I’m floating through space. Bouncing gently and randomly through life. Everything feels very far. Its not unpleasant. In fact, nothing feels unpleasant. Which is bizarre in itself, considering I’ve spent the last year and a half in a continuous state of emotional unpleasantness. Its almost as if my brain has had enough and now it feels strangely easy to find the funny, the good… even the miraculous… in the things that would have thrown me for a loop in the past. Maybe the word I was looking for before is “peaceful”. I feel peaceful. And quiet.
Ok. Also… I know this is a terrible segue, but the last few posts, I’ve focused around food… and I think I love that trend! Food has always been just an important part of my life and when I think of important moments, I think of the food that came along with it! So here is today’s food memory. When I was very little, my mom dated this guy named Richard, whose mom was from Sweden. We called her Mrs. Palmer. And even though the relationship ended, my mom stayed in touch with Mrs. Palmer for many many years. In those years, Mrs. Palmer shared a gazillion recipes with my mom. One of those recipes was for Swedish Pancakes. And so, that’s how this Salvadorean girl, grew up eating Swedish Pancakes and knowing that the secret was just 1-2-3.
Mrs. Palmer’s Swedish Pancakes
This recipe is so so simple and so delicious. And ridiculously easy to remember! I like to eat them with freshly cut strawberries, brown sugar and a dollop of sour cream. My boys like melted butter and brown sugar.
NOTE! In the picture, I folded them like crepes, but Mrs. Palmer always said I should roll them… She would have not been happy!
1 cup milk
3 tablespoons flour
Dump it all in a mason jar and shake. Melt butter in a small non stick pan (or a crepe pan if you have one). Pour a thin layer of the batter and tilt the pan so that the batter spreads evenly. Cook for a few seconds. Flip. Cook a few more seconds. Done. Fill with your favorite fillings! Delish.