There are so many stories that you can tell when you lose a loved one. The death of my mother-in-law, Pauline Geiger Eichler, brought stories from her siblings, her kids, her grandkids, great grands, friends and colleagues. Some of the stories are little gems. Others are wry observations. Still more are moments captured in a sentence or two, almost like little haiku memories.
I'm remembering lunches at Main Street Cafe and Bakery on Main Street in Pigeon with Mom Eichler. She and I would often sneak in a dessert, sort of a no-no when you are supposed to be back at work for the afternoon, and we would often order a "vegetable" tart.
"We have pecan tarts, not vegetable tarts," the waitress would tell us.
We would wink and smile and say, "Oh, that's the same thing. Bring us one with a knife. We'll split it."
Mom and I had a rating system. A Five was gooey and runny and lusciously sinful. A One had been baked too long. When you cut through a One, it sat in its crust and looked at you.
I ordered a take out Main Street Lunch several Wednesdays ago and had the waitress add a pecan tart to the order. As you can see from the photo, it was barely a Two.
Today was Pauline's funeral and it was a Ten, all runny and gooey with family and friends hugging each other and holding her memory close to our hearts.
Maybe next week I'll have another tart and hope for a Five, a High Five in memory of good times and good stories and good people, like my mom-in-law, Pauline.
Wanda Hayes Eichler