Tag: Childhood

How My Grandmother’s Legacy Lives On In Her Chicken Soup

August 13, 2005. The night of my 39th birthday. Instead of a happy celebration, that day became consumed with fear that my birthday would forever be known as the anniversary of my grandmother’s death. At 88 she had been in failing health, with many a scare that her last breath was fast approaching. On that Saturday night, I could hear the collision course in my head. My beloved grandmother was going to die on my birthday. 

Hours after a family Hibachi dinner, my parents would head to the assisted living facility that had become Mama’s happy home. The pact became “No matter what the clock says, Mama is not going to die on August 13th.”Thankfully, it never came to that. She died at 3 a.m. on August 14th, which in my world was still too close for comfort.

To have a grandmother in your life for 39 years is a blessing most people can’t relate to. As I tried to cope with my grief, the words of consolation to just feel lucky that I had her for so long fell on deaf ears. What people failed to understand was the meaning behind having her for so long. Everything I did going forward held a memory or connection to her. I would stand in the kitchen cutting up a cantaloupe and remember how the first course of every dinner at her house was a wedge of melon. An escalator ride in Macy’s launched me into a flashback of being a little girl and going shopping with her. Driving past a car moving at a snail’s pace would remind me of the time she got a ticket for driving too slow. The memories surrounded me constantly, some bringing comfort and some fueling outbursts of sadness and tears.

One month after Mama’s passing, we were facing the first Jewish holidays without her. It had been years since she was at the helm of the celebration, but she didn’t need to be in the kitchen for us to enjoy her food. As a child who lost her mother at age 7, Mama had taught herself to cook some of the most delicious food I have ever tasted. Her brisket recipe was a must during the holidays, always accompanied by her famous green Jello with pineapple. But her one true signature dish would forever be her chicken soup, homemade for every holiday in a special pot that we all decided added an unknown magical ingredient to make it taste so good.

“The miracle of that first holiday and every single one that followed was the fact that Mama could still celebrate with us. The food made any house smell like her house. She could be there even when she wasn’t.”

The miracle of that first holiday and every single one that followed was the fact that Mama could still celebrate with us. The food made any house smell like her house. She could be there even when she wasn’t. And whenever it was my turn to make the soup, my dog would bark at her pot as if to say that she was proud of me for continuing our special family tradition.

Mama’s chicken soup became much more than what some people refer to as Jewish penicillin. For our family, it was now a bonding thread. There is something about that soup that instills excitement in every generation of our family. It’s a given that before every holiday someone in the family will ask,“Are we having Mama’s soup?”One cousin makes it a competition to have as many bowls as possible when we get together for Yom Kippur to break the fast. This year, he will proudly tell you that he downed five bowls, matzoh balls included. And during the first few months of the pandemic, my son refused to leave New York City until I lured him home with Mama’s soup. During those trying days, I was especially thankful for the power of that soup.

Mama’s soup also made its way onto the pages of my son’s college application. He was asked to write about a family legacy and he didn’t have to think twice about what subject matter to use. He went into great detail about the fresh ingredients, the amazing taste, and the immeasurable value of a fresh pot of soup. I’m sure there were many reasons that he received an acceptance letter, but deep in my heart I know that Mama’s soup had something to do with it.

Mama left behind a legacy that includes kindness, generosity, and overflowing amounts of unconditional love. As time naturally fades the recollections of our special moments together, I am so grateful that we have a way to consistently bring her back to life. Mortality is inevitable for all of us, but in our family, we have one way around the unavoidable ending: chicken soup never dies. 

Photo by Henrique Félix on Unsplash

Posted on by Shari Brauner 0

How to Help a Friend

Throughout my teenage years, I started to notice something new and different emerging within my closest friendships. I seemed to be spending a lot of time engaging with friends who were coming to me for some kind of help. Whether they needed me for a rescue mission, as a partner in crime, or simply for a listening ear, I noticed a new purpose developing in my young life. I even contemplated choosing psychology as a major in college until I realized that emotionally engaging in deeply personal issues with others might feel like too much in addition to my own. So instead, I chose the unofficial role of the friendly neighborhood support system, choosing quality of life over a paycheck.

I do believe we are capable of helping those who mean the most to us, even if we find ourselves feeling at a loss of what to do or say. On the flip side, some people don’t want or know how to accept help, so there will never be a life manual of instructions on how to navigate this tricky territory. As someone who has a hard time allowing anyone to make my life easier in any way, I feel like I have a dual vantage point. How do you help someone who doesn’t know what they need? Here are some tips to help you avoid finding yourself within the disappointing majority of people whose response to that question would be, “you don’t.”

The first step is to gauge the situation with the response. Are we dealing with a full-throttle emergency, or would the less-is-more-reaction be just as effective? Most people are surprised to know that a small gesture can feel massive to someone in need. We’ve all seen the meal chains that are put together for families grappling with illness or tragedy, but I’ve discovered that something personal can be even more meaningful. 

Covering the Basic Needs 

Having simple, daily needs covered can hold so much value when we’re in a situation where the basics become difficult. I’ve learned to think about ways to offer helpful solutions with that reality in mind.  I watched a friend spend two exhausting years caring for her terminally ill mother, so shortly after the funeral, I gave her a gift certificate for a day of spa pampering. Another woman whose chronic illness left her housebound was thrilled when I picked her up one day and took her on a beautiful drive. The new mom up the block was grateful when I took care of her newborn and laundry for a few hours so she could take a much-needed nap. I must admit that the best help I received was having a friend come over to walk my dog after breaking my foot. Little things can feel much bigger when you’re in distress. A person can make a huge impact just by showing that they care, even in the smallest of ways.

Offering a Heavier Lift

Of course, there are also extreme cases where a good friend might feel the need to cross a potentially uncomfortable boundary. In most situations, I feel it’s probably better to be asked for that kind of help. I once impulsively offered a full weekend of cooking, company, and support, and I was given the go-ahead to step in. The family was in crisis, but by the end of our time together, I felt they weren’t the only ones who received something positive out of our time together. My assistance made a difference in their stress relief, and seeing them in a better place when I left made me feel rewarded, too. 

As much as I will be there for my friends no matter what they face, the good times will continue to be important, too. The “Lucy and Ethel” moments with my best friend from third grade stand out in my mind as some of the best times of pure joy. But we all know it can’t always be that way, and we serve ourselves and those around us better when we don’t run away from life moments that feel uncomfortable or challenging. Even worse would be avoiding a friend because you aren’t sure what to do. Like the traditional marriage vows, sometimes you too can make a difference in sickness and in health. And when you really care about someone, it’s always helpful to remember that even the smallest gestures can mean the most.

Posted on by Shari Brauner 0