Dear Reader,

How are you? It’s been 2 months since I’ve written and I wanted to check in. The above photo was taken on Saturday September 13th, three days after I had surgery. I was walking back to my aunt and uncle’s house after getting my hair blown out and it felt good to have my hair done because I was feeling rather sad (and greasy). I would take my first shower on Sunday September 21st. Both acts were steps in the right direction, though there are many steps to go — physically and emotionally.

Things here have been a little challenging, but I decided for this newsletter that I’d turn my focus to food and a summer wrap up — even though it’s fall. Cooking got me through my big, fat, summer of being a full time care taker, and attending on going doctors appointments for my family (and myself).

What do you turn to when life’s moments feel heavy? What do you do when they feel bright? Oddly, my answers are usually exactly the same to both questions — which can only mean that when things feel dark, there’s still light to be found.

The kitchen is a place I’m constantly called to when long days are budding with challenges and especially when I feel — or life feels — out of control. Something about making a list, checking it twice, searching the Lazy Susan for ingredients, organizing the pantry and refrigerator — it calms me. Does anyone else find lists, cleaning and organization to be therapeutic? Those roots run deep from childhood. I also wasn’t allowed to go outside and play until my room was cleaned and the outside of our house was swept. That often led to trimming string beans or watching my grandmother cook — then came playtime — if I was in the mood.

I’m writing this note to you while wearing a compression bra and abdominal guard after having had breast explant surgery (aka: breast implant removal from a back skin lift, breast lift and enhancement surgery I had 16 years ago after my 150 pound plus weight loss). I’ve been sitting at my aunt and uncle’s kitchen table for the few days getting lost in summer recipes in a hope to find my way through each passing day. Everything about my life, as of late, has been about making it through the day. “Live in today, Tina.” I’ve had to repeat this reminder to myself somewhat constantly. Though I’ve not been cooking and my aunt has been loving, caring for me, feeding me well, making juices and providing me with the coconut water, greens and vitamins I need to heal — my mind has been unsteady — restless. The waiting is always the hardest part of anything. Waiting to feel at home. Waiting for a thought to change. Waiting for God to explain a situation. Waiting to see how things turn out. Waiting for a result. Waiting for the next step to appear.

While summer has waned, it’s still warm in New York. My morning walks have been hot and chock full of humidity — my hair often frizzing as sweat beads down my back and collects in my compression bra. Dewy lawns that appear down wooded and fairy like paths paved with hydrangea bushes showcase fall decorations covered in a crystal like layer of mother natures sweat — a chill in the air mingled with heat welcomes me almost every morning at 730am.

I’m in a love hate relationship with this time of year, primarily because I’d like to eventually stop sweating. But following my morning walks my uncle kindly brews hot coffee, often just for me, even though iced would likely be more refreshing. I’m grateful for the care and thoughtfulness. And while apples can be picked, and pumpkins too, there are still peaches and zucchini’s lingering in farmers markets and in the produce section of super markets. Just yesterday morning my aunt hung her beautiful new fall wreath on her front door, while moments before she plucked from her garden what we believe was the final zucchini of her summer harvest. Needless to say, September brings duality and transition.

Given the mix of tricks, treats and heat, I thought I’d call in one last hurrah for summer. You may be decorating for Halloween, conjuring up costume ideas or very likely getting pumpkin spiced — but I’d like to hold on to one more summer day. Is that okay? Maybe because in the summer I still felt like I belonged in my body and now I’m not sure? Maybe because I’m a summer baby and I love the feeling of sun on my skin and I’d like for it to last ever so slightly longer?

If you’re not connecting with these thoughts or recipes right now, I understand. You might want to save them for next July/August — or for a time when you need to play make believe — when you want to pretend it’s summer and turn to cooking for joy and peace.

With love,
Tina

Newsletter Archive: A farewell to summer in the fall: 3 recipes to kiss warmer days goodbye