Monday, January 9

The Peaches of our Youth..

I stole the title for this post from an email my Beloved Brother sent me. We usually title our emails to each other, and some are hilarious, while others tell of darker matters.

In his email, BB was remarking that when we were young, the peaches, nectarines and plums all tasted magical, and their scent was so delicious, you were tempted to sink your teeth into the wonderful fruit.
We were lucky as we had a wonderful huge nectarine tree, and peach trees with both white and golden flesh.

And Tamarillo trees, and a wonderful huge passionfruit vine on an A frame trellis our Grandfather built. It was wonderful to sit under the vine, and indulge in the wonderful fruit in secret! Not that we were not allowed to eat the fruit, it was just the magic of hiding away, that was so appealing.

Now the fruit we buy is all uniform in size, lacks much in the way of aroma and the taste seems to have all but disappeared.

We try to buy Local, from a fruit shop that stocks the slightly spotted, or blemished,  and undersized fruit and vegetables, from local growers who can't send the produce to the Market. I can't really say the produce tastes better, though some potatoes and beans we purchased at a local farm gate were wonderful. I suspect they cost us more than a shop price, but the taste was worth the money.

Living in the past, some would say. Happy memories though, and the taste of the wonderful fruit seems to remain even after all these years.

I recieved a card, and some photos from  friends in Chrischurch New Zealand. The photos were of the friends' youngest son's wedding, and they were beautiful. I phoned them to say Thankyou for the card and the wonderful photos. These friends had been friends with Gom and I for a long time, and we had been with them when that youngest son was born.

'A' kept urging me to 'Come and stay! We will look after you, and you must think about living your life now'. I know the intentions of people are kind, and remarks such as this, are motivated by genuine caring. However after the phone call, I slipped into a deep depression, and realised I could never go back to Chch without Gom. It was his hometown, and I could not bear to see it alone, or indeed, in it's altered state.

I have many friends there who seem to have become accustomed to the continuing shakes and rolls. All have suffered damage to their homes, but they are still 'habitable'. All are promised repairs some time in the future. It must surely be unnerving to live in such uncertainty.

Such is the nature of my grief, I have patches where I think I am making progress, then find myself crying uncontrollably, and feeling so wretched. I dont know how other people make it through. I know this lovely lady, will understand how I am feeling, as she seems to have very similar feelings and experiences. (It is so long since I have blogged, I have forgotten how to link a site to a name only!)

I can hardly believe this year is underway.

I am desperately trying to regain some normalcy~ whatever that is, or will be, now.
I read other blogs, where the 'widow' (Odious word!) seems to be living on and enjoying life again. I suppose everyone is very different. I am trying various ways of coping with it all.

Joan Baez


Ali Honey said...

It's not your imagination Meg. Fruit and veges did taste better back then; mostly because we ate things tree ripened when they were at their best. Also before someone breed the taste out of them when striving for a better keeper or straighter form or more profuse cropper.
For me I too remember a garden full of delights because we lived in the country and my late dad grew almost everything we ate.( banans being one exception ) The thing I remember sitting beside and eating straight off the tree was gooseberries.( Not kiwifruit ) but gooseberries that usually got stewed or made into pie. If left on the bushes they gained a rosy hue and tasted devine.
Where we live now we are trying to grow more and more of our own food. We now lack the time and energy to do as much as before but still try.

I think you are right about NOT going back to Chch. Alone or with GOM it would have been a bad trip back in time. When you are ready visit somewhere new where you can start accumulating new memories ; ones that are just yours( or whoever you might be with. ) Give your self time - it is early days yet. Hugs from Ali.

Harmany Quilting said...

You will make it through, little by little, Progress will be made and lost, that is the nature of grief. This year is the first without everything, first without GOM, first birthday without GOM, and so it goes. I can honestly say I know something of what you are going through. Thinking of you.
Nicola in West Australia

Jennifer said...

You're right, everything tasted better then....I can still remember the taste of the apricots my grandfather grew, they were so nice, and the blackberry pies my grandmother made. You are being wise in not going back to Chch as it wouldn't be the same place you left - and that would be hard to cope with, we like our memories of a place to stay intact.

Anonymous said...

Taking up the thought from Harmany about how this year will mean the first of everything without GOM, she makes a good point. Those days, the memories of GOM will come on strongly. But if I may suggest, don't try to avoid them cause you can't but instead spend those occasions with close family and friends and celebrate GOM together. In that way, continue to make him a part of your life even as you continue the adventure of life. God bless, Meggie.

ancient one said...

The fruit was better when we were younger. I remember someone saying on their blog, that the apple with the worm in it, probably didn't have insecticide on it. No telling what we are eating these days.

Hope your dark days get fewer and fewer. I'm sure this year will be hard. I know you miss GOM so much. I like the suggestion from lgsquirrel. XX00

persiflage said...

I don't know how people make it through, either! Perhaps if we could leapfrog five years into the future we would have an easier time of it.
As I sat on the bus today I was thinking of you and that I should email you and find out how you are managing. Then arrived home, to find this post. For those in our situation, it is a very bleak and sad time of year.
love and hugs.

*Sheila* said...

Was thinking about you yesterday and wondering how the knee was? Improving I hope. xx
I agree with you about the taste of fruit and veggies these days. Especially here with our long winter, most stuff is imported or grown in greenhouses, and although it looks good is tasteless. Probably from having been picked to early and left to ripen on it's journey from where ever. The best apples I can remember were those eaten as child in the UK, usually pinched from a tree hanging over a fence! Eaten unwashed, they always seemed to be juicy, crisp and full of flavour. Garden peas eaten straight from the pod, and blackberry from the hedgerow, cannot be beaten.
I agree with the others, for now give Chch a miss, it will not help.
The patches of coping will get longer, and the depression will lessen. Hang in there.

Floss said...

When I was home visiting my mum, it was wonderful to eat the oranges from the tree, it still taste as wonderful as I remember. Nothing bets product straight from the tree.

Cathi said...

You are absolutely right -- fruits and vegetables, unless purchased directly from the farmer, just don't have much taste. I'm always so disappointed when I buy what looks delicious and find it tastes like nothing better than wet cardboard!
I hope as each month passes you find a little easing of the pain. I do believe each person has to follow their own healing pattern.

Bruce Taylor, a.k.a. Catalyst said...

So many wise friends you have, Meggie. I'm left with nothing to say except "Persevere".

Thimbleanna said...

Baby steps Miss Meggie, Baby Steps. Don't be too hard on yourself. And remember, a lot of bloggers tend to only blog about the happy stuff, and keep the other stuff to themselves. I'm betting that those "content" widows have their bad days too. Big Hugs!

Marja said...

Hi Meggie. We have some baby peach trees in the garden and it carries fruit. Can't wait to eat it.
I understand that you are not ready to see Christchurch It must have lots of memories for you. A big loss takes a long time to heal if ever. Sometimes you just learn to live with it. Lots of love and all the best

Cathi said...

People grieve differently...rather callous of your friend to suggest you start living your life. "Normalcy", whatever that may be, will come when you are ready. Keep on keeping on!

The Sagittarian said...

Hi Meggie - let me know if you do venture over here, will be happy to drag you to our backyard and let you try our peaches and grapefruit? You just have a new normal to find, and you will in your own good time. One day at a time, one foot in front of the other.
I hardly recognise my own city lately, so many buildings demolished and its hard to recall what was ever there! xx

Tanya said...

You have reminded me to go visit the local vegetable market and stop relying so much on the supermarket. I know the farmers would appreciate the patronage and it might even be cheaper. But it is easy to do the convenient and since I want to buy the meat and bread and bottled stuff too, I only get to the supermarket.

I'm sorry that your knee hasn't been getting better. Too much is coming upon you at one time. I think the emotions must be normal though...

Thinking of you.

Lynley said...

Christchurch is such an inoffensive town to get this terrible death by a thousand cuts. I feel that the life will slip out of it if the tremors continue. All the best.

Kathy's Klothesline said...

I was thinking of you today. My friend here who lost her husband this past summer is still very fragile. We always end up crying when we talk. Personally, I find crying to be a good thing. Cleansing, I suppose. I didn't have a chance to cry when my son died. Too much family drama, and then my middle daughter had a major breakdown. My son was not a good person. He betrayed his family in so many ways, unspeakable things. His passing brought it all home to each one of us in different ways. Any grieving on my part seemed like a betrayal to my daughter. No matter what I did I was betraying someone. My recent break from sanity was triggered by carrying all this by myself. I am better, but, if I have a really bad day, I just let myself feel all those horrible feelings and cry those tears.
Not the same as your heartache, I know. All this to say that it is okay to grieve, my dear friend.

Pauline said...

Laugh your laughs and cry your cries and know that NOTHING lasts forever - advice given to me by a grief and crisis counselor during some dark days. We needn't analyze our feelings constantly. Sometimes we just have to let them run through us. Thinking of you and hoping the time comes soon when you laugh more than you cry. That time does come, Meggie.

quiltmom said...

Just want you to know I am thinking of you. I do not know what it is like to walk in your shoes. Grief does not have a timeline or an expiration date- Do not be too hard on yourself,you will find your way through the days that are hard and ones that may not be as challenging.., whatever your day, I know that you are well loved by your family andfriends. May the love of family and friends be the balm on your wounded heart. Sending you a big hug and good thoughts,
Just thinking of you,

Isabelle said...

Oh, poor Meggie. I'm so sorry that you're so sad. Hugs from me too.

Christine Thresh said...

Nothing will ever be the old "normal," you will have to find a new one. I know it is hard, but you have pluck.
I do feel so sorry for you.

Molly said...

I second Pauline's advice! As well as death and taxes we can be certain of change---we just have to wait it out! Wishing happier days ahead for you Meggie.........