When we spoke he said simply “I miss cooking” in the most animated, dramatic way I have ever seen. Every facial muscle employed; stuck in the worst quandary of excitement consumed by frustration. Sort of like this face, but with much more angst and a lot less Planet Earth. If he could get up and run, his kitchen would be the first place we would run to.
He most misses making meals for his family and friends. Jim is a pretty exceptional cook.
It was 3:30pm and he listed, for the better part of a half hour, all the things he would create:
He would first sit by the pool with a glass of Bubbly, some crackers, blue cheese, hot peppers from his garden and some….peaches….
“did you say peaches, Dad?”
“yes, fresh peaches”
…ok, fresh peaches.
He told me about all the vegetable pies with flakey pastry, buttery velvet melting in the mouth. About the apple pies, stuffed with cinnamon steamy goodness; as if directly from the Garden of Eden. Fresh baked bread and home-made pizza crusts.
I fear that when he is ever able to get back to his kitchen we may all become morbidly obese, because he will never stop cooking again.
He told me, and I knew because I was fed for so many years, how the roasted potatoes would be golden and crunchy on the edges, the sautéed carrots needed to have a sweet crispness with a buttery garlic finish, the broccoli would be vividly steamed to perfection, like a lawn of sea salt crusted tiny trees. How the tomato and cucumber salad would luxuriate in a delicious pool of vinegary herb heaven. He gave me the step-by-step specific, special standards that a rack of lamb would need to be served flawlessly, and how he must do a quick final sear on each side to caramelize it to superb crusted precision; bowls of fresh mint sauce waiting, drizzle ready on the side.
He crossed his eyes and whispered a series of searing noises with his silent mouth to demonstrate exactly how lush the outside would be, and it took everything I had not to jump on the bed and hug him because it was so ridiculously adorable.
I told him that if he could get up and make that lamb right away, that I would eat it all. He knows that I have not eaten meat for over 14 years. He laughed and said he would make me some salmon.
“No, really Dad, if you come home right now and cook that lamb, I will eat the entire thing and all of its relatives, get up, let’s go home”
he grins “Ok, deal”
I am drooling already. He wanted to know exactly what I had cooked for our Canadian visitors and I think he approved. And he gave me that passionate response about missing cooking that you,Tracy, got. I want to know what he will choose for his first post-tracheotomy meal.
After the lamb will be apple pie! A favourite of J C’s and if I can get some Bramley apples in one form or another and am permitted to export them to you he could have his all time favourite.
Trying to send you a message this morning Jim, I remembered ‘ Peter Rabbit ‘ and how you sailed her all the way from England, alone and seasick. And then I remember driving you down from POS to La Brea, to meet Charles, and how you survived both those episodes, and so much more, so that we don’t need convincing you’ll be back at the helm of your life, shouting, ‘ Get out’ at irregulars like me who love you. Thywillbeadon.
Jim,
Thinking of you ! we miss you in Switzerland !Thank you Tracy for your beautiful writing. Before we left Trinidad for Switzerland we sneeked in the ICU to see you and you promised that next year we will go together. You told us that you skied In Garmishpatenkirschen how you could You mimiced those words !!!!! Next year we will be in Les Crosets together !
And Karen you are a star ! The whole family is so wonderful and we are so proud to know you.
With love to all
Irene and Friedhelm
tracy pretty soon he´ll do so. Love u all
and what about the meat cooked underground!!!!!!!! Tracy I know this is your last night for now…just know that you will never be alone..He will always be with you…you have been amazing and I hope that you will be able to continue these wonderful updates when you are back home…not home here as we know…go with the love and Blessings from God as we continue to pray our prayer…day by day dear Lord we pray……for the whole Craig family…
hahaha I can see him now in his kitchen. I think this is one of the things I miss most about not living in T’dad, and that’s the family lunches up at Jim and Kareen every Sunday, special times. The last time we were there was last Christmas, and it was around 10am and we were all in the pool, glasses in hand, singing (screaching) loudly at the top of our voices, having a ball, then finished off by a lovely home cooked meal Arrrr HEAVEN
xxx