This will be the third Mothers' Day since
I lost my Mama. Scratch that...Mama always appreciated clarity. I can just
imagine one raised eyebrow and a wry observation: Lost? Really, darling, you
should be more careful.
This will be the third Mothers' Day since
Mama died. But even after three years there
is still a lost-ness about it - that wistful yearning I feel when I
reach for the phone to share some good news, or think of one of the thousands
of questions I wish I had asked her, or when I set to work in the kitchen,
always grateful for the blessing of being raised, nurtured and taught by a
woman who was a foodie long before anyone coined the phrase.
This will also be the first Mothers' Day
since my younger sister and only sibling died, leaving two beautiful daughters,
aged 17 and 20. There is nothing I can do or say to ease their sorrow on a day
that will be acutely painful as, all around them, friends and acquaintances
celebrate.
But I can speak a word of solace and hope
- the promise that pain changes over time.
The "acceptance" that is the final and enduring reality of
grief is neither a state of amnesia nor an admission of defeat. Slowly, memory
by memory, comes the dawning realization that the awful finality of death is
NOT the end of love. St. Paul's
assurance of the endurance of faith, hope and love is not mere sentiment. God's enduring and transforming love have
taken me from red, swollen eyes, sleepless nights, and a yearning for my Mama
that actually felt like my heart WOULD break, into a deeper understanding of my
blessedness and belovedness. Now I can
see my beautiful granddaughter and smile at the thought of how Mama would have
doted on her - while simultaneously denying that she was old enough to be a
great-grandmother. I can smell Mama's Spanish beef stew and feel comforted by
memories of my childhood. I can see shrimp
and Virginia ham and sugary cereals in the grocery store and rejoice in
her dogged insistence that my children enjoy their favorite treats. I can
admire the natural hospitality, kindness, intelligence and tenacity of my
children and rejoice in the truth that much of Mama lives on. The Psalmist was
right, weeping may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning. Grace
happens.
A particular memory has returned,
unbidden, from the forgotten recesses of memory to bless me on this Mothers'
Day. In 1975, when I was only sixteen, Mama was diagnosed with terminal cancer.
She was enrolled in a research protocol at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in
Houston. Sometimes, when Daddy had to tend to business, I flew from our home in
Florida to Houston with Mama. It was difficult travel with a frail mother,
interminable hours in hospital waiting rooms, and explanations to airport
security about the precious vials of
chemo meds we carried in insulated bags. Mama could barely eat on these trips -
nausea, mouth sores and fatigue had stolen her appetite for food. But her love
remained undaunted- strong enough to put me in a taxi one Sunday morning where
we headed first to church and then to Brennan's where she watched with utter
delight as I tucked into the most elegant brunch I had ever enjoyed and my
first taste of the famous Brennan's Bananas Foster. That is what love looks
like - an emaciated Mama finding joy in a daughter's happiness. Digging deep
into her precious reserves of energy because these were the moments that
mattered.
I remember, Mama. I remember that you had
a part of your lung removed the next day. I remember the relief when I knew
that we would share more meals around altar and family table. I remember
Bananas Foster and the taste of love. And the tears I shed in remembering are
tears of joy.
I
wondered: How should I remember and honor Mama on this Mothers' Day? This is my attempt to embody the love that we
shared on that day when all she needed was to see me smile.
Bananas Foster Bread
2 cups
all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon
baking soda
1/4 teaspoon
salt
1/2 cup butter,
room temperature.
3/4 cup brown
sugar
2 eggs, beaten
2 1/3 cups
mashed overripe bananas (about 4 large)
1 teaspoon
banana extract
1 teaspoon rum
extract
Glaze:
1/4 cup butter
1 Tablespoon
water
2/3 cup brown
sugar
3 1/2
tablespoons rum**
1 teaspoon
banana extract
1 teaspoon rum
extract
** You can also
use banana rum or half rum and half banana liqueur.
Preheat oven to
350 degrees F (or 340 degrees F in a convection oven).* Grease and flour a 9 X
5 loaf pan.
In a small bowl,
stir together flour, baking soda and salt.
In a mixing
bowl, cream together butter and brown sugar. Add eggs, bananas and extracts and
blend until well mixed. Add flour mixture and stir gently, just until the dry
ingredients are incorporated. Pour
batter into prepared loaf pan and bake until a toothpick inserted in the middle
comes out clean -about an hour in a regular oven, a bit sooner in the
convection oven. Begin checking doneness
around 40 minutes. You can tent with foil if the crust is browning too fast.
Remove
bread from oven, let it rest for 10
minutes and then remove it gently from the baking pan and onto a cooling rack.
Using a thin skewer, poke holes through the warm bread and spoon glaze over the
top. (Try a sheet of parchment paper or a double layer of paper towels under the cooling rack to catch the
dripping glaze). Cool before slicing.
To make the glaze: Combine ingredients, including rum, in medium saucepan. Stir to
combine and bring to a gentle boil over medium heat, stirring frequently.
Remove from heat and drizzle warm glaze over the banana bread. Warning: Do not add alcohol to a hot pan,
this is NOT a flambe recipe!
* High sugar
content and a thick batter tend to make banana breads dark crusted before they
are cooked in the middle. Convection baking, if you have it, helps.
