It's a Kitchen Day and the Final Friday Before Easter

So, it's the end of Lent - almost. It's been a joy having my salmon on Friday nights for the past weeks, but I will be happy to make the final piece of it tonight and then not make it again for a year. It's easy to make, it's very tasty, but eating any single thing weekly for such a long time (and on a required schedule) is a bit of a PITA to my freewheeling "I feel like cooking this" attitude towards my meals. I'm very conscious of how I cook - my ingredients, my recipes, and my WildFit guidelines - but with the exception of my Wednesday night chicken breasts, I don't like having the same meal on specific days every week. So, I will happily send my salmon recipe back into my stack of recipes, and watch the fish swim away, probably not to be used again until next year's Lent. 

I do love my broiled salmon recipe. It's easy and quick 
and tastes fabulous. But, enough is enough. By the time 
Lent ends, I'm quite ready to put the recipe back into 
the stack and not pull it out again until next Lent. 

Dad's been on my mind a lot over the past few days - probably because of that small royalty check I received from his publisher. I remember the days when we'd get monthly checks and they would actually amount to several thousand dollars every year. His royalty checks helped pay for Mom's care facility bills, and then helped me establish my brokerage account. They might be next-to-nothing in amounts now, but at that time they were substantial and very helpful. I imagine any best-selling author gets a lot more in royalties than Dad ever did - language books have a limited audience, after all. But those checks were very nice to receive. I'll get this one deposited either today or next Wednesday. I'm sure I can manage without the less than $13 in my account for a few more days if I get pinched for time today - LOL. 

This Spinoza Therapy Bear is the same coloring as the 
one I bought for Dad. The photo gives you a good idea 
of the bear's size - it's perfect for a good cuddle, and 
very soft. See the red button on his chest? That's the 
on/off and volume control. There's a cassette player 
accessible from the back. It's rather ingenious and was 
developed to help asthmatic kids with their breathing.  

I still remember the Spinoza Therapy Bear I purchased for Dad while he was in his final stay at the hospital suffering from kidney cancer. I was poor - and the bear was very expensive. It was (and still is) a bear that's large and cuddly and amazingly helpful to help with breath and pain management. At the time, it worked with a cassette player inside of it, which would allow the person hugging the bear to practice the breathing exercises on the included cassette tape for asthmatic children. I figured it was such a comfort to cuddle the bear that I was determined to get one for Dad, despite the $80 or so price tag and my total lack of funds. I did manage it (barely), and cuddled it on the flight to Denver later that week. 

Here is a photo from a production of "The Magic Flute" at 
the Metropolitan Opera, in Lincoln Square. It's quite an 
elaborate opera, and over-the-top as most of them are (which 
is part of their fun). I was surprised Dad didn't request 
Wagner - he was totally in love with the entire Ring 
Cycle. But I guess he wanted something a bit more 
light-hearted. For me? I'd go with the "Flying Dutchman". 
Love that music! 

Once in Denver, I gave it to Dad and explained how it would play whatever he would want to listen to. He requested Mozart's "Magic Flute", so I purchased a set of tapes for that - a good performance with well-known and respected voices and a solid orchestra. Dad was in a lot of pain, but the nurses told me later that he clutched that bear to him, listening to the music, and that it seemed to help him quite a bit with pain management. At that time, doctors were very stingy with narcotics, not wanting to create addictions, so Dad got morphine first thing in the morning. But it was already wearing off by early afternoon, and evening/night were agony. I hated his doctor for not increasing Dad's dosage - the man was dying, let him die with comfort! I got nowhere with the doctor, who despised me and referred to me as "pushy". Well yes ... I was. 

I'm pushy. When it comes to caring for my loved 
ones, I can be VERY pushy. Sometimes it's necessary 
to be that squeaky wheel. 

Mom was all flustered about trying to find a good care facility for Dad once he got released from the hospital. She knew she was incapable of caring for him, and that he would need much more intensive care from professionals. She and he had finally determined on one, and then Dad was visited by a palliative care specialist who suggested a hospice program - the first time hospice had been mentioned. She also told Dad that HE was in charge of his care. She told him everything was up to him - that he didn't need to accept the feeding tube if he didn't want it (he hated it), and that hospice would allow him to live with dignity for the time he had left. He was an immediate convert and had that feeding tube removed immediately. He was so relieved that there were possibilities out there for him. His current book-in-progress had been given to a fellow professor who said he would finish it for him. The loose ends were tied up. He died in the early hours of the morning within 12 hours of seeing the Palliative Care Specialist. I don't know if he was listening to Mozart, but I brought the Spinoza back home with me, and it's been one of my favorite stuffed bears ever since. 

Bees don't go straight from one flower to the next, 
they meander, do a few loop-de-loops, change 
their minds, switch directions, and generally, straight 
lines are NOT in a bees' wheelhouse. 

So, that's the way my convoluted mind works. I started off talking about food, and ended up talking about mental food, memories and a very important bear. My pathway was as straight as a bee's path through a flower garden - LOL. Have an excellent Friday and I'll be back tomorrow. Slava Ukraini and חיים למען ישראל.