In lieu of magic, layers

[mrissa]

"I'm not doing the pepparkakor this year, I can't," I said, and everyone in the family had different reactions. My mother asked if I wanted her to do them. (No. Dad and I were the only ones who ate them really, and I only ate one. Throwing away a batch of pepparkakor minus one would be so much worse.) But Timprov said, "But you're still doing the lussekatter, right? I think we all need them."

Yes. I still did the lussekatter.

We all still do need them.

We need them a lot this year.

It's been unseasonably cold early here in Minnesota--we've had January-typical temperatures starting in November--which is the pathetic fallacy if I've ever seen it. It's so much colder this year. The world is so much colder. Well. Yes. I've been standing in front of the oven when I take bread out, letting the residual heat dissipate directly into me. I've been wearing layers early--I think my long-sleeved shirts got about three days of time on their own before it was constant sweaters, fleeces, everything in layers.

Those of you who have been coming around a lot know that Christmas Eve day was always my time for just me and my dad. This year I'm making up a new bread recipe, an apricot chocolate babka, which is based on a plain chocolate babka that uses up basically every dish in the house and totally demolishes the kitchen, but with *even more* layers of decadent goodness. And effort. And mess. (Christmas dinner is not at my house.) I'm going to do that rather than having someone try to be Substitute Dad, rather than trying to recreate the old plans without Dad who was so central to them. So there are going to be two sets of special bread in this month, and I think I need both.

It's a lot of work, though. Fighting through the dark in hopes that there will be light again somewhere if we just keep working for it hard enough is a lot of work. The rest of the world at large isn't any brighter than it has been--in some places this morning quite a bit worse and I'm so sorry--but I've been writing these posts since 2006 and this is the darkest it's been so far for me personally. When I preface wry or struggling comments with "Since my dad died," I can kind of get people to remember that. When I don't, I get pushback of the "I would expect you to be more cheerful!" kind. I get that a lot.

Because...grief doesn't change the general shape of our relationships with people. So if the general shape is "we are mutually supportive friends," there can be ebb and flow there, it's all good. But if the general shape is "I provide light, you soak it up," well, get with kneading that saffron bread, lady, that is your job here. That is what you are here for. Why are you not doing your job.

A lot of years I use these posts to be grateful for those who have brought light to me, and I am, oh, I am. I have needed some of those who have been there for me this year, and I know some of them have needed me too. We have clung together on this little raft when we expected to be on dry land. But...I feel like there's a taboo around saying that some people have brought some of the darkness too, beyond what grief itself has brought us. Beyond what fear and political upheaval and all the other things have brought us, there are the people who treat us like commodities. Because we always fought to bring the light back before.

Well, and I'm trying to do it again. I'm burying my hands in the dough, I'm revising the words, I am doing the work. I am trying like hell to do the work. And to keep sorting out which bits of the work are really necessary and which bits I can just...let rest for a minute, a year. But I am not a commodity, I'm a person who is grieving. My mother is a person who is grieving. The answer we keep giving in this dark year, whenever anyone asks how we're doing, is, "We're doing the best we can."

Today the best we can has to involve lussekatter. In a few weeks, an experimental babka. It also involves my current practice of reaching out to others who are grieving, ill, divorcing, or otherwise struggling--in general, but particularly when I'm angry at those few people who are not there for my mother in the ways they said they would be. That's the best I can do: to not be them. To take their examples as an opportunity to do better, even when I am so very tired.

But also the best I can do today is say out loud: it is dark, and it was a lot of work making this bread, and I am really, really tired, and I could use some light. I need help with this. I can make the bread alone. (It rose enormously this year.) I cannot make this light alone. This darkness is a long road, and I am not out, and this bread is not magic. Neither are the words, "How are you? I'm thinking of you." But until we get magic, we're going to have to layer not-magic on not-magic until we're warm enough to go on. They say it's warmer if you keep moving. We can hope that's right. We can stand by the oven and inhale the saffron and warmth and wait until it's just barely cool enough to eat. Because this year we need this. Don't forget we need each other.

Happy Santa Lucia Day.

2018: http://www.marissalingen.com/blog/?p=2376

2017:
http://www.marissalingen.com/blog/?p=1995

2016:
http://www.marissalingen.com/blog/?p=1566

2015:
http://www.marissalingen.com/blog/?p=1141

2014:
http://www.marissalingen.com/blog/?p=659

2013:
http://www.marissalingen.com/blog/?p=260

2012:
https://mrissa.dreamwidth.org/840172.html

2011:
https://mrissa.dreamwidth.org/796053.html

2010:
https://mrissa.dreamwidth.org/749157.html

2009:
https://mrissa.dreamwidth.org/686911.html

2008:
https://mrissa.dreamwidth.org/594595.html

2007: https://mrissa.dreamwidth.org/2007/12/12/
and https://mrissa.dreamwidth.org/502729.html

2006:
https://mrissa.dreamwidth.org/380798.html — the post that started it all! Lots
more about the process and my own personal lussekatt philosophy here!

Comments

[matt_doyle]

Happy Santa Lucia Day!

You've just given me an idea, which it feels do silly I never had.

Around my house, my father did the baking, my mom did the cooking. And I have never been able to get his bread recipe right; so I don't bake bread.

But his bread is an acquired taste (this sounds like a metaphor, but that's life's art at work, not mine): my immediate family sees it as the best bread ever; most other people find it too dark, too sweet, and too heavy for being just casual, everyday, make a sandwich bread.

And it never occurred to me that, if I can't get his recipe right, I could try to adapt it.

I knew I could just use a different recipe! But it never occurred to me to try and make it mine.

I may do that, this year.

[mrissa]

Yes! Make it yours!

I have my late grandmother's recipe for limpe (rye bread), and I can make it as she made it, and my dad and his youngest sister say it's right. But I often don't make it quite that way, I often make it as buns, with olive oil instead of butter, several other small changes that are my limpe recipe.

[lilysea]

Thank you for this post, it's beautiful! ^_^

I'm sorry for your loss. :(

Expecting ANYONE to be a beacon of light 24/7/365 is unreasonable. We humans are supposed to support others when we have the capacity; and ask for help when we have the need.

"From each according to their ability, to each according to their needs" works for emotions as well as for physical resources.

[mrissa]

Thank you.

I think that part of the problem comes when people feel that they have assessed my emotional resources and that I am always going to be the one who has the ability and they are always going to be the one who has the needs, no matter what the external situation.

They're often right--I was raised by loving parents in circumstances that gave me a a lot of emotional resources. Just...not infinite.

[anne]

NOW it's Almost Christmas. I'm not sure when Lussekatter Post Day became an important part of my year, but it is, and I'm so glad we're part of each other's lives.

[mrissa]

I'm glad too, and thank you for being one of the people who thinks about things mutually.

[sartorias]

Grief does take the time that it takes, that's for certain. While I'm sharply sorry that the darkness is so pervasive, I'm cautiously hopeful to see how sane is your approach to dealing with it.

In the meantime, if there are things that long distance people who like you can do, please speak up.

[mrissa]

Thank you, dear.

[oracne]

You will get through this. We don't get over losing people, just through. I hope you and your family can feel some joy over the holiday, even if just a little.

[mrissa]

I'm pretty good at moments of joy, and I like giving people things, so I think that part will be good.

Also there will be parts that will be terrible. It's just...some joy? Yeah. I think I can do that.

Thank you.

[kore]

Thank you so much for making this post, especially today.

[mrissa]

Glad to be here.

[ursa_cerulean]

Thank you for this post.

Like Anne, every year, this post makes it Christmas. And every year you manage to say something I needed to hear, and I appreciate the hell out of it.

Thank you for sharing your light.

[mrissa]

I'm glad to help.

[batwrangler]

Thank you for this. Your work is appreciated. You are loved. (You are loved regardless of whether you do the work or not. You. Are. Loved.)

[mrissa]

Thank you, dear Bat.

[davidgillon]

The answer we keep giving in this dark year, whenever anyone asks how we're doing, is, "We're doing the best we can."

Which is all anyone can expect, all that we can do. However we're doing, it's the best we can.

We're in a similar position here, and Christmas is going to be different.

[mrissa]

Yeah. We didn't ask for different, but here it is.

May your different be as good as possible.

[carbonel]

I've never eaten lussekatter that I recall, but I look forward to your post about it every year. I don't have much useful to say, but I do think of you and hope things improve over time.

(Does saffron keep? I have some from at least a couple of decades ago that my parents brought back from Russia.)

I don't know if pebbernodder have any connection to pepparkakor, other than both having significant amounts of spice, but I've been thinking about making a batch of pebbernodder as holiday time approaches.

[mrissa]

I would be very surprised if it kept a couple of decades. Smell it, you should be able to smell a distinctive strong saffron smell. If not, toss it out.

Whenever you see a pepper- type root in a Germanic language cookie name, you're seeing a spice cookie. But what blend of spices varies extremely, so pfeffernusse and pepparkakor are quite different cookies. I have not had pebbernodder, but the internet tells me they're more like pfeffernusse than like pepparkakor.

[redbird]

This is so true.

Happy St. Lucia Day.

[mrissa]

And to you.

[aamcnamara]

Happy Santa Lucia Day. I am glad I have a plan to see you next month. I am glad you have two special breads this month, and the warmth of the oven, paltry though it is against everything else.

("Some people's children" is not condemnation enough for the folks who think you always ought to bring the light.)

[mrissa]

I am so glad to have a plan with you too.

[rosefox]

Love and light.

[mrissa]

And to you.

[umadoshi]

*hugs*

Thank you for this, as always.

[mrissa]

Thanks.

[gwynnega]

Grief is so hard and exhausting. I'm thinking of you and your family. I'm glad you did the lussekatter and wrote this post.

[mrissa]

Thank you.

[julian]

Love and light to you.

And can I gnaw on the folks who want it to be a one-way exchange? Or would that be impolite?

(Grief exists. It takes the time it takes. And sometimes more.)

[mrissa]

I mean. I feel your gnawing is on your own conscience.

[thistleingrey]

Best wishes for the light returning.

[mrissa]

Thank you.

[pegkerr]

My daughter Fiona, bless her, although she has left home, still makes sure I get fresh lussekatter every December 13, using your recipe. She is grieving her daddy, too. I will send this post to her.

See my latest post to see the lussekatter she made for me, as well as the candle display I set up on my kitchen island for my lonely breakfast alone. Since Rob is gone, I hate living alone so much. Grief sucks, but lussekatter does help. Love and light to you and yours.

[mrissa]

I am glad to make lussekatter in solidarity with Fiona.

Light to you both.

[rachelmanija]

Can I give you some light? A book review? An email? A tiny handmade kitten or loaf of bread?

[mrissa]

Oh goodness, thank you. If you want to email, that's lovely. You don't have to, but you can.

[athenais]

Thank you very much for this gift year after year. I am thinking fondly of meeting up in the coffeehouse last year just about now and how good the cardamom-flavored latte was. Our talk about family/families and genealogy was so very helpful; it unfolded a few things for me as the days went on.

[mrissa]

It was good to see you too! And in that time since you've gotten so much information and we've gotten our new cousin...strange how much has happened even on just that front in this year.

[thanate]

<3

I have a thing for you, but it is not quite finished yet, and then still needs mailing.

May your new bread be glorious.

[mrissa]

Oh gosh! Well! Thank you in advance!

[ashnistrike]

I have had the thing with people thinking I am inexhaustable. It is horrid, and must be even more so on top of everything else.

Sometimes, all we can do is keep ahold of each other, and put our heads down, and keep going. Seeing you around here, in your own posts or commenting sensibly on other people's, is a welcome light. It is not ever required of you, but it is appreciated.

We are thinking of you.

-Nameseeker

[mrissa]

Thank you so much, dear.