Three weeks ago, the day I got word our Mother had passed away, I was sitting alone at a table in the Mall having a very late lunch of Sushi and a bottle of iced tea. I opened my phone to check messages and there it was, two lines. I didn’t want to make a scene. A few tears leaked down my face and I just quietly got up and put the wrapping and empty bottle in the bin, slipped on my dark glasses and started the 20 minute walk home. These things tend to trigger a flood of thoughts and memories in no particular order of importance. As I walked the thought popped into my head I would go the markets and buy what I think (after much research) is the best carrot cake in Adelaide and eat it in Mom’s memory. She was a very good cook and her specialties on the sweet side were Cherry Pie, Apple Pie. Pecan Sandies, Cheesecake and Carrot Cake. We liked her carrot cake so much we had it for our wedding cake which my cousin Donna baked and decorated so professionally it was amazing. This was before carrot cakes were as popular as they are now.

So off I detoured past the Bread Bar to have my cake and eat it too. A sweet young teenage girl came and asked me if she could get me something. The minute I opened my mouth the ugly crying began. Through croaky voice I asked for “a piece of yummy carrot cake please”. The poor girl handled it well but as I tried to explain I had just learned my Mother died she gave me the box with cake in it and wouldn’t let me pay for it. Insisted she would not take anything for it. She said how sorry she was and showed such compassion I was moved even more. 

A few days later I returned to the scene of the tearful carrot-cake-attempted-purchase, to thank the young girl and to try to pay. She refused again. I told her ‘thank you for helping me’ and she stretched out her small, young hand through the space in the counter for me to shake. I said ‘Go home and hug your Mum and tell her she has a lovely daughter’. As I was leaving I said ‘I just live across the street and I’ll come back again’. As I walked away I hoped she hadn’t felt threatened by some weird, crying old lady who would haunt her! A week or so later I stopped and she smiled when she saw me. I bought a piece of cake for my husband and she looked at me and said ‘It’s nice to see you again’. And I looked at her and said “It’s nice to see you too”. And it was. The market feels like the beginning of a community for me.

The next weekend our daughter visited. It’s always a welcome event. Even this time when she told us she received confirmation while here, that she would start her new job with the company she is working for, on July 1st. In Singapore.

Two days after she left Don was told he has lung cancer. He will start treatment in three weeks. It is early. He was never a smoker. He is fairly fit and healthy otherwise. We are hopeful.

“You are the sky. Everything else – it’s just the weather.” 

― Pema Chödrön