Mom and the Lasagna

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

the lasagna burden

Early in the morning, we threw our luggage into my silver civic. Uncle Jakob got into the driver's seat, I sat in the back, and Mom carefully got into the passenger seat, holding a casserole dish of lasagna that she had prepared the night before. Wanting to be helpful to Jessica, who would be hosting us, she had offered to make dinner for tonight.


We drove Highway 1 up the coast, and stopped at a cliff with a spectacular ocean view. The wind blew in our hair, carrying a wisp of cattail out into the great expanse below us. “I just have to let go,” Uncle Jakob said pensively. I knew he was speaking about his wife, who died. Appreciating that he was sharing his journey with me, I savored this moment, so glad to be in it. 


"We need to keep going," Mom said. "I told Jessica we'd bring the lasagna for dinner." 


Reluctantly, Uncle Jakob and I followed Mom back to the car. 


Some hours later, Uncle Jakob pulled over in Big Sur and we strolled under the Monterey Cypress trees, breathing in the salty air. Uncle Jakob looked up into the broad canopy of evergreen leaves radiating in all directions. "Designing a large, lopsided structure like this, would require intelligent engineering." He spoke as a professional carpenter.


I looked at the tree’s twisted trunk, appreciating it in a new way. We stood there awhile, until Mom said, “We have to go. The lasagna.”


Back in the car, Uncle Jakob ignited the engine. "Why we would cut our time short, in one of the most beautiful places in the world, for the sake of lasagna, is beyond me!" he protested. “Can we just enjoy ourselves for a moment, without the burden? I just want to throw that lasagna out the window!”


Mom silently stared forward, reaching back and pinching my leg with a slight smile, which was her way of winking at me. 


“I never had this problem with Alison,” he continued. “We always enjoyed our journeys without such stress.”


“Rudi and I travel very well together too,” Mom said, somewhat defensively. “We are very much the same in our pace.” Yes, they are. Always moving forward.


Jessica called. Mom gave our update. Jessica said, “Mom, whenever you get here is fine. You could come at midnight, and that would be fine. We are not waiting for the lasagna.” 


Later that night, lying on a mattress in Jessica's living room, Mom and I were dying laughing as Uncle Jakob recounted a typical funny moment with Aunt Natalia. We were laughing as much at him, as the story. For his face and hands were tomato red from the lasagna he was happily gorging.


Submitted: May 05, 2021

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