I didn’t ask you if it was okay to use your names when writing this letter, hence the initials. And I don’t want you to feel self-conscious, or feel as though your grief and sadness at the loss of your beloved yellow lab Alta is at all on display.
I want you to know how sorry I am for her passing. I want you to know that our hearts stretch and reach out to you during this time. It isn’t simply difficult for you, it is so very difficult for your children. As you said to me, they simply just do not understand why she had to go, what this means, how death happens.
They don’t conceive of why Alta couldn’t stay with you forever. Why she won’t be back to stand watch at the end of their sick bed, or chase crickets through the long grass, or lay in the shade of the trampoline on the ranch.
This bond between us humans and our animals is much, much deeper than I imagined. Especially with a puppy like Alta who really becomes like a first child. If you had said some of those things to me– about how deep the love between a person and their puppy runs, or how they become your family, or how they give so much love to you that is irreplaceable– a few years before we got Bailey, I’d have smiled to myself and thought otherwise.
This territory is HARD. Maybe loosing an animal companion is hard because we know of the inevitability of this event– most dogs will never live as long as their human counterparts. But that doesn’t make it any easier when they depart. Does it make it harder?
I have come to believe strongly that all dogs truly do go to heaven. Your words of love and tenderness toward Alta have swelled my heart. I believe, as you do, that our dear companions are taken home to that Creator who gave them life, and that we are reunited with them as we cross the bar from this life into the next. Maybe Alfred Lord Tennyson said it best:
Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar.
The mood this Monday is low– the clouds hang heavy on the mountains, the rain falls quietly and cold. I hope you feel and know that heaven weeps for and with you, too. This love you had is not a small or forgotten thing. Passing time may not ever make it better, or right. There is only the hope of happy meetings in the great beyond.
These seasons and changes, these passings and hopes of restoration– they hit deeply on the nerve of life. Death teaches us the importance of life. It causes us to look to our God and hold those we love closer. Such a lesson never comes easily, and almost always has that heavy, tear-born cry for one more day, one more moment in the sunshine.
May you meet Alta with our Pilot ‘face to face’ in the next saga of this journey– the continuance of life feels sure to me. May you find sweet and comforting solace for your sadness, tender hearts, and pain.
I am writing this letter to say THANK YOU! I am writing because, not only have you changed family dinner for myself and my family by offering The Six O’clock Scramble Family Meal Planner, you have changed our entire LIVES!!!!!
Just yesterday my youngest son (4 years old) declared, “I was born with an appetite!” I laughed out loud at his mini-bout of braggadocio. He is right. This is the child whose first pediatrician said, “I have never seen a bigger breast-fed baby!”
That kid was born hungry. He is strong, healthy, and heavier than two of most other kids his age put together! I jest. He has also been my biggest challenge when it comes to eating, food, snacks, meal-time, etc. Here on my blog I have fondly referred to him as Chicken Nugget, because it seemed that after his love for mother’s milk the only other food he would request was that– chicken nuggets.
But I’m getting a bit ahead of myself. Our story of family dinner– and my gratitude and thanks to you, Aviva, for starting, and growing, and sharing, and perfecting The Six O’clock Scramble— began when we got married back in 2008.
Two things were apparent immediately after we tied the knot: first, we needed to have meal plans each week. And second, I didn’t have nearly the repertoire of meals or food prep skills to make dinner-time delicious or enjoyable. In fact, I made some pretty horrible meals!
I’ll never forget one dinner. My husband came home from his demanding publishing job– tired, hungry, ready for a good dinner. I handed him a bowl and he exclaimed, “I love macaroni and cheese from the box!” One bite, and the excitement on his face morphed into a confused, trying-to-hide-disgust facade.
“What is this?” He mumbled through the noodles. The dish was indeed macaroni and cheese from a box, souped up with a standard can of Campbell’s Tomato. I had grown up on this stuff. I was actually crushed he didn’t seem to like it. I was actually starting to cry. “Honey, I just didn’t know what was different about the flavor!” He exclaimed, trying to backpedal. But he was right. It was a horrible meal!
I regrouped. I put together a weekly dinner plan that went something like this: Monday- Greek Salad, Tuesday- Tacos, Wednesday- Boxed Pad Thai, Thursday- Chicken, Friday- Pizza, Weekend– Whatever (probably way too much fast food!!!!). I stuck to this plan exclusively, almost obsessively. I don’t remember how long this went on. It may have even been for a year or more.
The same thing week after week, dinner after dinner. It worked for us for a long time. But finally my husband had had enough. He told me that he couldn’t stand eating Pad Thai for even one more meal. This was sad because, previous to our weekly menu, it had been one of his all-time favorite meals. Now he couldn’t even see it on a restaurant menu without gagging.
Neither of us had the stomach for Greek Salad anymore, and we didn’t really even want to visit our favorite taco stand because we ate them so frequently. We needed HELP! This was probably the darkest time in our quest for family dinner. We moved to a Sunday planning model where I would acridly ask him what he wanted for dinner that week. He would throw out some ideas, some of which I would shoot down, some that I refused to make, a few that I would agree to cook up.
Once I asked my husband what the hardest part of marriage was for him and he replied without missing a beat, “Planning meals.” We hated it. The problems were real, and I now realize they are faced by many, many families. First, it was hard to find meals that were not just delicious or palate appealing, but healthy, as well as time manageable!
Not only that, but I also wanted to set the example of eating healthy, whole, well-balanced meals for my growing family. Our oldest son had now been in a picture for over a year, and I wanted to make sure I was feeding his growing body with the nutrients he needed instead of throwing a few re-heated frozen peas onto his high-chair tray and calling it good.
I could go on, but suffice it to say that AFTER we were introduced to The Scramble, it changed our lives so much that I once found myself calling in to a News Radio program that was asking for dinner planning comments– stories, nightmares, solutions. The Six O’clock Scramble was a veritable SEA CHANGE in our family dinner story.
We found The Scramble through my sister and her husband. In truth, when they told us that they were subscribing to a meal planning service we laughed out loud. In front of them. Yes, we laughed in their faces! Rude. But here’s where we had to eat humble pie.
My sister encouraged me to use her subscription for a two weeks. She couldn’t say enough good about having weekly dinner menus at her finger tips, and a grocery list with EVERYTHING you needed to taser that grocery shopping excursion out in ONE TRIP!!! They also loved the variety of meals they were eating. A different meal every night! Imagine that!
To top it ALL off, the meals were FAST, taking 30 minutes or less to prep. It really did sound TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE! We took her offer and used her subscription for two weeks. I was raving. My husband was smiling. When we sat down to evaluate our impressions at the end of two weeks he said, “I’m in. I haven’t eaten even one meal that wasn’t a 9 or a 10 on a 10 point scale.”
The very next day my sister surprised me with a 6 month Scramble Subscription for my birthday. The rest is history. History that has carried us over three years and hundreds of meals later with The Six O’Clock Scramble.
Aviva Goldfarb, you are a revolutionary. You are a woman of the people. You have enable families EVERYWHERE to share in the joy of family dinner! You have changed our lives beyond any other single decision we have made together as a couple. Bold words, but now as I sit at the dinner table surrounded by my husband and our two beautiful boys a peace and joy come into my heart for that moment every. single. day.
And when you ask that same hungry four-year-old what he had for dinner last night you might be shocked to hear he had Hot and Sour Soup without a chicken nugget supplement! 🙂 That same sweet little man, when asked at our family dinner discussions, almost always cites NOW, meaning right here, right now, this moment– FAMILY DINNER– as his favorite part of his day.
Because of you, Aviva, it is MINE TOO!!! Thank you from the bottom of my heart (and the bottom of my belly)!
XX, Megan
P.S.
Aviva posted this video on The Scramble’s Facebook page a few weeks ago. I watched and cried. THIS is why family dinner is so very important! ❤
P.P.S
Many of the meals I post here on my blog are from The Scramble. Here’s what you need to know to subscribe. The Scramble is a meal planning service to which you can subscribe here. For a fantastic price you will receive 8 weekly meals which means 8 recipes (main course plus a side dish), complete grocery list, the ability to tweak the number of people you are making for, and full nutrition facts.
PLUS tips as to how best to PREP your meal beforehand, add a punch of FLAVOR, and how to SLOW COOK almost every recipe if you’re especially slammed that night. This wonderful service really does live up to it’s name. You can come home at 6 p.m. and be sitting down to a DELICIOUS, HEALTHY, HOME COOKED meal by 6:30 p.m. most nights.
Little M and I did this project a day ago, and after a long hiatus from more kid-centric posts it was fun to get back in the saddle and have some fun with this little fellow!!
We did this project with Kiwi Crate, but let’s talk about how you can recreate this entire project at home with just one trip to the dollar store 🙂
For the bird’s eggs and nest you will need:
Cardboard Eggs
Paint
Glue
String
A plastic or reusable bowl you’re not afraid to cover with gluey string!
Two other smaller bowls you can fill with glue and paint
For the bird mask and wings you will need:
Mask with with elastic
Feathers
Orange construction paper
Hot glue gun (we used some little glue tabs included with this Kiwi Crate)
Two large piece of felt with holes for threading elastic in and out. (Shaped as wings if you want to get fancy!)
Long piece of elastic (at least as long as your child’s “wingspan”– tip of finger to tip of finger across the back)
Make sure you have a mat or a paper bag to cover your workspace 🙂
Start by painting your eggs. Fill a small bowl with paint. Set them aside to dry. Then take about 3 feet of string (or more). Fill the other small bowl with glue. Put your string into the glue. Mix well.
Pull the string out of the glue, and then place it on the downside of the plastic bowl (so you will turn your bowl upside dos and pull the string over it. Careful, your hands will be sticky!!) Set your nest, still on the round of the bowl aside to dry.
Take your mask and turn it over. Affix the feathers above the eyes in any design you like. Cut out a bill or a beak from the orange/yellow construction paper. Glue this to the back side of the make. Let the mask dry.
Last, lay your wings out as they will lay across your child’s back. Take one end of the elastic and tie a loop with a knot at the bottom in one end big enough for your child’s thumb.
Theead the rest of the elastic through both wings. Finish by tying a loop with a knit in the bottom at the other end.
Little bird’s costume is ready to fly! Have a beautiful Friday evening and a stellar Sayurday!!!
XX, Megan
Note: The nest, and eggs are ready to go once everything is dried (the nest takes AT LEAST overnight to dry fully.) You can subscribe to Kiwi Crate here.
The dog threw up at 3:30 a.m. so I decided it was the perfect time to finish my letter to you. I’ve begun it a dozen times because I wanted it to be right. I wanted to say ‘I love you’ in a deep, sweeping, passionate way without somehow becoming overtly sentimental, or sappy.
But after a week of thinking and re-writing I still don’t have that formula. Instead I’ve found the perfect way to tell you I love you, and that is by completely overthinking it!!! That’s me-style, yes?
Plus, as per my usually just-a-tad-off-subject to the outsider, I’ve fixated on a phrase I heard maybe three years ago:
“Attachment is the root of suffering.” Or reflexively, “The root of suffering is attachment.” Other versions replace attachment with expectation, yet another with acquisition.
Long ago I had asked myself how marriage could be supported or degraded by this/these statement(s), and now, stay with me because I promise this letter will get better. But the moment these two ideas collided again– marriage and suffering due to attachment– it felt as though I needed to answer the question(s):
Did our marriage constitute “attachment”? And was our marriage the root of our suffering? Was I causing you suffering by loving you?
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Way too much for a simple letter to my Valentine. But I couldn’t shake it. I intended to find an answer to my question.
So I did what every good scholar would do– I googled it. “Attachment…suffering… marriage”.
Well, actually, first I googled to make sure the quote was actually even a quote. I found that it did indeed come from Buddha. From the Sunakkhatta Sutta: To Sunakkhatta. Yes, the quote is legit.
Now here’s the rabbit hole we need to go in and out of quickly: At first I was trying to say, “Well, does marriage really constitute attachment?” Maybe the meaning of this word ATTACHMENT was really FALSE ATTACHMENT. But that argument was obviously weak as it rested purely on semantics.
Instead it was more of a ‘duh’ on that one because, YES, marriage is an attachment to someone. The deepest attachment, in my opinion. The more I thought about it, the more I read, the more perplexed I became. And then I stopped.
This line in an article I’d been reading titled, “A Happy Married Life: A Buddhist Perspective” gave me that pause. “When one ceases to crave for sensual pleasure and does not seek to find physical comfort in the company of others, the need for marriage does not arise.”
This is where my questions ended (to a point, mind you), and my understanding grew. At least my understanding of myself. I suddenly realized that perhaps I didn’t subscribe to going AWAY from other humans and isolating oneself to seek enlightenment.
I didn’t believe that ‘physical comfort in the company of others’ was a crutch. I believe it is the true nature of human beings to be together. To learn together, to work together, to live together, to love together, to get married.
I didn’t think that the best practice to learning how to be the highest form of being could be achieved alone, or in a vacuum. I felt that enlightenment, for me, would be reached with YOU. Not just with you, but with the community of humans earth is made up of (there are some real philosophical difficulties here, too, I realize).
I said to myself, “I do not need to seek personal asceticism through giving up my relationships.”
Now I want to be careful here to point out that there is pure merit in going away and removing oneself from casual society for a time– even sometimes an extended period of time– to meditate, contemplate, and receive a truer self. Prophets through the ages have shown this.
Out the other end of my rabbit hole I realized very clearly that YOU are what I both wanted and needed. I felt as though we chose and choose each other in a way that sought the best for one another. Here I can subscribe to a very Buddhist principle of a happy marriage and that is the reality that, “marriage is a partnership of two individuals and that this partnership is enriched and enhanced when it allows the personalities involved to grow.”
Marriage is the ground where we should employ our most virtuous characteristics– love, patience, self-less ness, tolerance, and understanding. Marriage is the space where we can practice being the closest to an individual, and giving the most space to that same love.
Here, the Buddhist perspective is very clear and uplifting, “Man and woman need the comfort of each other when facing problems and difficulties. The feelings of insecurity and unrest will disappear and life will be more meaningful, happy and interesting if there is someone who is willing to share another’s burden.”
Marriage can and does cause suffering. Anyone who has been married can attest to that. But is it not important to work through suffering to brighter ends? To more brilliant outcomes? To becoming enlightened? To becoming one?
Again, the Buddhist perspective is insightful, “A successful marriage is always a two-way path: “humpy, bumpy” — it is difficult but it is always a mutual path.” The married path can be “humpy, bumpy”, certainly. But it is always taken TOGETHER.
I’m married to you because I love you. I’m married because I don’t simply believe in the institution, I believe in the evolution. The evolution of two individuals giving directly to one another in their most self-LESS practices. Not easy. Lifetime practice.
I don’t simply love you. I like you. I choose you. My love, in the immortal words of Macklemore, “If I only had one helmet, I’d give it to you, give it to you.”
It’s often while I’m choring– vacuuming, sorting or folding laundry, staring into the depths of a toilet with scrubber in hand– that I have moments to think about things. Life, love, and family. And often when I have this time my thoughts turn to YOU.
I am really grateful to be your mother. I hope it shows in the way I look at you, the way I hug and hold you, the kisses– eskimo, butterfly, and otherwise– I give to you. The sacrifices I make for you.
I also hope that my love shows in the chores you’re asked to perform, the homework your are encouraged to finish, the extracurricular activities you are supported in. I also hope my love shows in the cooperation, kindness, empathy, consideration we advocate you offer toward each other and the outside world.
Becoming a mother was not an easy journey for me. I don’t say that in the sense that it was fraught with physical hardship, or that I didn’t want to be or become a mother, because I did. Maybe it is more aptly stated that it has taken me a LONG time to understand how to be a good mother– not only what that meant to me, but what it looked like to my heart– and that I am definitely still working on it. Always will be.
What I mean is that being a parent is a challenging endeavor, and that is putting it mildly, not matter what your situation. No matter how much you’ve desired to take on the role, or not. No matter how much you’ve dreamed about the prospect of children, or the joy you imagined they’d bring, or the path you thought you would take, or not. There is no playbook.
There is always this motion involved in mothering built into every learning capsule, every growing situation because of precisely that– YOU– you are always growing, changing, learning, morphing. Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually you– the child– are always and forever becoming a new kind of thing, a new person. And yet, there are pieces of you that truly do stay the same. Those core individualities that make YOU like no one else who has lived or who will ever live. It is at once astounding and staggering.
The learning curve is one of the steepest I’ve encountered– both becoming a PERSON and becoming a MOTHER. But lingering on the challenge won’t carry you very far in any aspect of life, instead you have to seize the opportunity with your hands, your feet, and sometimes your teeth! It takes grit to shoulder the responsibility and then watch with incredulity as the thing that was once so daunting and worrisome turns into something so beautiful and fulfilling.
Motherhood was and is that work for me, the hardest, most challenging, most beautiful, most fulfilling work I’ve done. Because being your mom is the BEST thing I’ve ever done. It is the MOST important project I’ve ever set my will to, and it is the HIGHEST calling I’ve ever or will ever be given.
I wish I could share with you in some way the joy you bring to rise and bare in me. I guess in family life we share that joy by showing love to each other. In fact sometimes it’s nothing more than your smile, a hug from you at the end of a long day, your mastery of a skill, or your hard work and effort as you struggle to perfect anything– walking, biking, writing, skiing, kindness, care, politeness, conversation, friendship, love– that cause the uprising of that joy.
Joy like a wave so strong it washes me anew with the deepest gladness, so powerfully sweet and good that I can practically taste it. And listen, I realize that some of these lessons are LIFETIME ventures– lessons we are each learning over, and over, and over again– so there will be trips and spills, scars and pain.
I wish I could conjure up a spell every time I thought, “Wow, YOU are INCREDIBLE, my son.” And that the spell would give you my eyes, and ears, and thoughts, and heart for just a moment. To see what I see, and hear what I hear, and feel what I feel– my unequivocal, uncompromising love for YOU. Always.
Dear P and M,
Refined + Rugged 