This post was edited by KIyer at 2014-4-10 13:01|
Heather Labelled The Containers.....
My neighbour Col invited me to afternoon tea today. We had scones that his nephew had brought over. Good homemade stuff, frozen until ready to use. We warmed a few in the oven and had them with butter and jam alongside a cup of warm tea this cold winter afternoon. It had been frosty, bitingly cold and foggy this morning. Col had his fireplace going and his house was warm. He hobbled around slowly but was determined to be a good host. He himself cut the warm scones, applied the butter and jam, and made us a cup of tea, slowly and seemingly painfully with his arthritic fingers. He had purchased an electric can opener as it was getting too difficult with the manual ones. As we ate, we chatted about ourlives.
Col said that he had learned to cook more stuff recently since Heather passed away. Almost till the very end of her life, Heather was the one who had cooked their meals with variety and attention to detail. Col was capable of survival cooking and a few recipes, but Heather ruled the domain of the kitchen while he did all the work outside in the garden and inside the house, fixing things and keeping everything in good condition.
Col mentioned that while many of his family came by and dropped off food for him to use, he was trying to use what he already had. There were things in lower shelves, that he has difficulty bending, reaching and getting up or straightening up again. He just needed to organise and arrange them conveniently.
“Heather could not do very much in herlast days,” he said, his eyes showing he was seeing with his mind’s eye, “She labelled the containers and bottles only recently. That was not how she kept things all these years when she ran the kitchen. She knew where everything was. I guess she felt she did not have much time left, she could not herself move and re-arrange it properly. She just managed to label them all so that I could know what was where and use it! She did it for ME!”
An expression of fond appreciation came over his face. We drank the tea, thanking Heather silently for one of her last acts of service. It still lives and helps Col.