This post started out about pot roast. And as I was writing about browning and caramelization and braising techniques, all of the words seemed silly and insignificant given the reason I was writing about pot roast in the first place. So I decided to back up a little.
A few weeks ago my husband, children and I made the familiar drive from our home in Boise, Idaho to my hometown of Seattle, Washington. We’ve made the drive a hundred times before, but this time was different. I was going home to be with my Mom. To say goodbye to my Mom.
She fought a courageous battle with a multitude of physical trials over the past 13 years, among them being a destructively progressive case of MS and a major brain injury. She continually defied medical odds and bounced back from near-death hospital stints time and time again. So even though she had been sick for years, it was still a shock to suddenly hear that this time was different. This time she wasn’t bouncing back. This time we would bring her home, but it would be so she could finish her mortal life surrounded by her family at home.
I’m sure many of you have had similar experiences with people you love. And like me, you have felt the weight of your world crashing down around you. I hope you’ve also felt the buoying strength that can come in trying times from the love of both God and other people in your life.
My Mom passed away three days after I arrived. I won’t detail everything that happened in those three days because it was a sacred, personal experience, but I was so happy I was there. I sat at her bedside and told her I loved her. I held her hand and told her it was okay for her to go; that she fought such a good fight and we were all going to be okay. I told her I’d miss her every day of my life and I couldn’t wait to see her again one day.
You might be wondering what on earth this has to do with food and blogging and pot roast. Well the thing is, you probably know my Mom more than you realize.
Hundreds of thousands of you have read this post. My experiences with my Mom have shaped my character and played a significant role in influencing my thoughts and feelings about Motherhood.
I grew up at her side in our kitchen. She taught me that food is a way to show love and help people connect with one another. Our kitchen table was evidence of that, and so much of my life is built around that now. My Mom taught me how to cook. She never realized it, nor did she ever really get to understand what Kate and I have built here. When I was at her house after she died, I found this copy of our very first cook book. I remember my sister sending me a text about it at the time. I sent a copy home to my parents and my Mom put post-it notes on all of the recipes that looked good. So like, every page. I laughed because so many of those very recipes were ones she taught me to make! She didn’t know, and couldn’t remember. After my Mom’s passing, Kate pointed out how cool it is to think that my Mom can finally see all that we’ve worked so hard to build here and she would love it.
On the drive back home to Idaho after she passed away, my mind was flooded. We were quickly trying to pull together funeral arrangements, and I would only be home in Boise for a few days before we turned around and made the drive back home to Seattle again for her burial. The previous weeks and days had been emotionally exhausting and my heart ached. We pulled into Boise with our car full of tired children at 11:30pm on a Saturday but before heading to our home we went to the grocery store. Because I needed a chuck roast.
Boise was cool and drizzly that weekend and the following day was Sunday. In the final hours of our drive home, all I could think about was how that next day I wanted to curl up on my couch with a blanket and smell a potroast braising in the oven. Because that’s so often what was happening in my childhood home on Sunday afternoons. That scent was almost healing. There is a reason they call it comfort food; my brain went straight to it without even trying.
In the days and weeks that followed, friends overwhelmed me with love and service. People showed up with at my door with beautiful flowers. One friend made activity bags for each of my kids for the car trip. Others took my kids off my hands. And they brought food. My brother came over and noticed all of the things that had accumulated and noted sarcastically that no one brought him any food. We laughed and noted that women know how to communicate with one another. Most friends didn’t even say a word. They just knocked on my door with a smile, gave me a big hug, and handed over a plate of brownies, or a pan of lasagna, or freezer meal or loaf of bread. And I heard and felt the message that no one needed to say out loud.
Food is love.
And that’s why I love what we do here. My Mom taught me so much of what I know not just about food, but gardening, home-making, life, faith, family and so much more. And I have had the unique opportunity to share it with millions of people around the world. Millions. I marvel at that. Part of that is her legacy.
So while you may have never met my Mom, you know her through her famous Mint Brownies and Peanut Butter and Jam Bars. You’ve adopted her traditions if like me, these Cheesy twice-baked Bleu Cheese Potatoes or Overnight Sausage and Egg Casserole grace your tables on holidays. You’ve tasted a bit of her warmth and goodness if you’ve made her signature Candy Cane Cookies found in our second book, and her love shines through in countless other recipes on this site and in our books. Whether she knew it or not, she’s part of Our Best Bites. I would say the same about Kate’s Mom, who died when Kate was young. We’re lucky to be the daughters of great women, whose shining examples continue to uplift and inspire us.
For anyone out there experiencing trials and heartache of your own, know this. There is purpose in everything, even the darker days. I truly believe that. One of my favorite thoughts is by James E. Faust, and I’ve felt a renewed significance of it in these past weeks:
Here then is a great truth. In the pain, the agony, and the heroic endeavors of life, we pass through a refiner’s fire, and the insignificant and the unimportant in our lives can melt away like dross and make our faith bright, intact, and strong. In this way the divine image can be mirrored from the soul. It is part of the purging toll exacted of some to become acquainted with God. In the agonies of life, we seem to listen better to the faint, godly whisperings of the Divine Shepherd.
Into every life there come the painful, despairing days of adversity and buffeting. There seems to be a full measure of anguish, sorrow, and often heartbreak for everyone, including those who earnestly seek to do right and be faithful. The thorns that prick, that stick in the flesh, that hurt, often change lives which seem robbed of significance and hope. This change comes about through a refining process which often seems cruel and hard. In this way the soul can become like soft clay in the hands of the Master in building lives of faith, usefulness, beauty, and strength. (-Faust, The Refiner’s Fire.)
In the weeks to come, you’ll see my pot roast recipe pop up here, and now you’ll know all the heart behind it. I hope it, along with the rest of the food we share here, helps you create traditions, memories, and safe places for your own hearts to return to.
Questions & Reviews
This Friday marks the 6 year anniversary of my moms death. She died when I was in my 20s before I had kids. She never met my beautiful daughter and I miss her every day. Now I’m pregnant with my second child and the loss of her seems vast and overwhelming once again. You’re words touched my heart and I’m so sorry for your loss. God be with you til you meet her again. She seems like such an angel and how blessed you are to call her your mother. That is something time nor death cannot take from you. Love your blog and all that it represents! Take some time for yourself – we understand!
What a horribly hard post for you to write. Thank you so very much for pouring out your feelings as you did. Your Mom would be so proud of you!
I’m so sorry for your loss. Please know you and your family are in my prayers. I love that she’s a part of so many recipes that you have shared. It’s like you have shared a part of her with us. Thank you. She sounds amazing. My sympathies for your loss.
Thank you for sharing your heart with us. I can’t imagine what you must be experiencing right now. I loved the beautiful quote by Elder Faust. So grateful that it sounds like you are surrounded by wonderful friends who are there to lift you up, but most importantly, the Savior.
Beautiful words for an equally beautiful lady from her beautiful daughter. You have q great talent in the food industry but your writings are always on point. So inspiring to all of us. Prayers to you and your family during this difficult loss.
I am so sorry for your loss. Like many women before me, I lost my mom to cancer when I was 23, and there’s not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could have her back. Her life was too brief. Your mom was lucky to have family that loves and cares for her and that she loved and cared for. I grieve with you.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful post. God bless you!
I’m so terribly sorry for your loss. I was only 27 when my mother passed away & at 61 I still miss her every day. Your beautiful mother is indeed a part of you & will be forever. Thank you for sharing your beautiful story with us. My prayers are with you and your family. Warm hugs to you.
Beautiful post that truly shows your love for your Mother. Heart felt sorrow for your loss. I have learned that you will always miss her and at times will want to pick up the phone to call and ask a question. I always love your recipes and things that you post. Heavenly Father will bless you and your family and as you know you will be with her in eternity.
What a beautiful tribute to your Mother. Your love shows through with every word. How proud you made her having you for a daughter. Prayers for healing and peace and the knowledge that she is safe at last.
I love this post about your mom. The pictures of when she was a young mom are how I remember her. We were good friends when we were living in Renton. When I had my second boy, she wanted to give me a baby shower and I told her I didn’t need anything because I had had another boy. She let me know that having a baby was a reason to celebrate and she threw a baby shower for me anyway. (I ended up with four boys!!!) We also had Thanksgiving Dinner 1980 with your family. I was too pregnant (with that second boy) to head a few hours south to spend the holiday with my family. I loved your mom and the friendship we had back in those days when we were young moms. We are so blessed to have an understanding of life after death, but it is so hard not to have loved ones with us. Although I have discovered that sometimes they are with us and those moments are so comforting. I pray your family will be blessed during this difficult time.
My heart goes out to you and your family.
Barbara- I love that memory, thank you for sharing it!
My heartfelt thoughts and prayers go out to you and your family with the loss of your mother. I’ve been an avid follower of Our Best Bites and all that it encompasses over the years- your grace and strength truly shine through. Your post today made me stop and remember my mom and the all of the special bonds we had. I’m sure you’ve touched many many readers with your reflections. God Bless!
These are the posts that make me love Our Best Bites so much. You no doubt post amazing food, and my copy of your book looks similar to your mom’s copy. 🙂 But what I love is the heart you share with it. Like you, I am connected to the recipes and meals I fix for my family because they were passed down to me by people I love; most of all my mom and her mom. Thank you for opening your heart and sharing your hurt — that’s a courageous thing to do. I hope it brings you healing as it has brought me hope today.
This was a beautiful tribute to your mom. Thank you for sharing it with all of us.
Beautiful post. Thank you for sharing your life. You are inspiring. I’m sorry for your loss. You will miss her every single day. We are so blessed to understand the plan.
I have followed your blog for years. I too just lost my dad two months ago. I can relate to your feelings of clarity. It really opens your eyes to what really matters in this world. Thank you for sharing and I’m so very sorry for your loss.
That is such a beautiful post about something so heartbreaking. Your mom is so pretty, just like you. I am so sorry for your loss. Thank you for your beautiful message. Hugs!
Sara, I sorry for your loss. Sending healing prayers to you and your family and friends. Although I’m sitting here crying thinking about my own mom who passed this year and relating your story to my own life, it also brought just as many smiles to my face thinking about my Sunday suppers and coming home from church to those same smells. Thank you for sharing. God bless you.
What a beautiful story. I am glad you were there for her final days, and hope that you can feel all the electronic hugs from those of us who have read your story.
What a heartfelt tribute to your mom. Praying that your pain eases with each passing day and that you take comfort in the cherished memories that you have of your mother.
I’m so sorry to hear about your mom. What a wonderful woman she was—and a great inspiration. Thank you for sharing these tender thoughts. Our prayers are with you and your family during this difficult time.
Just wanted to tell you sorry for your loss and to thank you for sharing this post. Sending you a big ((hug)). Thoughts and prayers sent to you and your family.
As a long time reader, I feel as if my cooking abilities have increased significantly because of this blog. In addition to the food, I feel that personal posts like this one and many other ones on this blog are needed to make that extra connection with your readers. I’m so very sorry for your loss. We, as your readers, feel your pain and hope that you find solace knowing that your mom is no longer suffering.
What a beautiful tribute, and what grace and strength you have to share your memories and your pain. I am so sorry for your loss.
I am so very sorry for your loss. I wish you and your family peace during this difficult time. I have also been a very regular follower of your blog, though I do not often comment. Please know that I will think of your mother when my family has her breakfast casserole on Christmas morning as that has become our tradition thanks to you (and her). You are in my thoughts and prayers.
Your beautiful words and tribute to your mom have me in tears. My heart aches for you. What a treasure to have so many wonderful memories with your mom that you’ll have with you forever. Thank you for sharing her legacy with us an for inspiring us all to create similar memories with our loved ones. Hugs to you friend!
beautiful post….my condolences on the loss of your mother
I am so sorry for your loss. thank you for sharing the beautiful picture s of your mom, and sharing which recipes were hers. I love that picture of your first cook book and all the sticky notes. She loves you, and knew you do great things. I love what you said, “food is love.” I should seriously put that up on my kitchen wall. Especially on days when I’m barely lucky to get something on the table because life is crazy.
I’m so sorry for your loss. What a lovely tribute to your mom and her legacy. Thank you for sharing this.
So sorry for the loss of your Mother. Thank you so much for sharing this with us. It is comforting to know that you will be with her again after this life, but it makes it difficult for now. My thoughts are with you and your family.