Angels Among Us & Biscuits

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Brush of An Angel’s Wing by Charlie Shedd was gifted to me in 2015. It’s a quick read of miraculous, but true stories of healing, rescues and sweet waves of comforts. The book is as uplifting as having an angel on your shoulder.

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While I did not need convincing that God’s messengers do exist I wondered if this book of divine intervention could help or inspire other parents who have lost a child. After such a harrowing experience finally believing my son is an angel among us was a real positive turning point in my own grief experience. Whoosh moments inspire me to celebrate him.

The brush of an angel’s wing eases the torment. It happens at unexpected times and when needed most. The book and its wonderful message needs to be shared. So, here is what I did.

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I wrote William’s name on the inside cover with his date of birth and the day he died. I then mailed the book to a friend who had also lost a child with instructions to add her child’s name to the “Angels Among Us” list and then to pass it on after reading. I then forgot all about it until now.

Fast forward to a month or so ago when I received an apology note from a mom who had lost her son last year. She said she was sorry for holding onto the book for so long, but she just could not bring herself to write her son’s name in the cover. Suddenly, I recalled my own first year of numbness, shock and disbelief. I knew exactly what she felt. I still have days when I can’t believe it. Back then I would not have been able to write my son’s name in the book either. Glad I was able to pick myself up and in time you will, too.

Hang On Pain Eases (H.O.P.E.)

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Have you been apple picking? Have you tried angel biscuits? I suppose they got their name because they are not only made with the typical baking powder, but also leavened with yeast making them rise to heavenly heights. I made some spicy apple butter with all those apples that Annabelle picked adding it to the biscuit mix for some fall flavor. These would be an unexpected pleasure on your Thanksgiving day table and easy to do because the dough is made in advance and can be refrigerated for a day or two.

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Apple Butter Angel Biscuits

  • Servings: 12
  • Difficulty: easy
  • Print

1 teaspoon active dry yeast*
1/4 cup warm water (105º-115º F)
2 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour*
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
½-teaspoon baking powder
½-teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt
4 tablespoons (1/2-stick) cold unsalted butter, cubed
½ cup apple butter
½ cup buttermilk

2 tablespoons heavy cream and 2 tablespoons turbinado (demera) sugar
In a small bowl, stir yeast in warm water to dissolve it; set aside.
In large bowl, whisk flour, sugar, cardamom, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.  Scatter the butter over the flour mixture and cut in with a pastry blender (or rub together with your fingers) until the butter is the size of small peas. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the pumpkin purée and buttermilk.  Add the buttermilk mixture and the yeast mixture to the flour mixture and stir just until the ingredients are moistened.  Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least an hour or as long as overnight.

Heat the oven to 450º F.  Line a 9-10-round baking pan with parchment paper.

Remove the dough from the refrigerator.  Turn the dough out onto a floured work surface and knead 4-5 times.  Roll or pat the dough to a thickness of 1/2 inch.  Cut the dough with a 2-inch floured cutter using a straight up and down motion; don’t twist the cutter.  Cut out as many biscuits as you can.  Fit as many biscuits in the baking pan as you can with just a slight space between them.  You can also put them side-by-side on a baking sheet. Gather the remaining dough scraps, then gently roll out the dough again. Cut out the remaining biscuits and place on the baking sheet. Brush tops with heavy cream. Sprinkle with sugar.

Bake biscuits until golden brown, about 12-15 minutes.  As soon as the biscuits come out of the oven, brush the tops with the melted butter.  Serve warm with butter and apple butter.

*as always I recommend Redstar yeast and King Arthur Flour for consistent, tasty results

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Post-Script

 

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Like a magnet to the North Pole I have been pointed back in this direction. My moral compass has led me to share a few more words in celebration of my son. The new stories from friends, family and complete strangers took me by surprise. As they emerge they will be preserved here rather than forgotten. While I thought I had nothing more to share there is a bit of wisdom left.

Mostly, the goal is to share the comfort of angels and assist those struggling in their grief. Hopefully, this blog will encourage mourning. Mourning is publically sharing your grief as opposed to grieving which is taking all your feelings and stuffing them into a container that no one else has access to. As much as you fear those judging you and not accepting you “moving on” my advice is to open up and just let them have it. Go public with your grief.

In the words of my lovely friend Mary Alice who recently lost her husband:

When people ask me how I am my response is, “I’m fine until I’m not”

Could 5 simple words be more courageous and empowering? It’s a right in your face invitation to have a natural conversation about the human capacity to give and receive love. Isn’t that God’s greatest gift? Accept the invitation to chat and you will breathe life back into the broken-hearted.

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thank you for breathing life back into those around you

Crossing a Bridge: The Final Step

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It’s been 2640 days since I lost my son.  Over 7 years has gone by in a blink of an eye, but in the last month there has been some kind of change. It’s hard to explain because I don’t exactly understand it myself. I liken it to crossing over some sort of bridge. How does one get to such a crossroad? It certainly isn’t easy and could not have been done without this blog or you celebrating him. And my goodness how you celebrated him…at your weddings, with the birth of your children, at country music concerts, on the lacrosse field, at the beach, at Will’s Bench and in the mountains….from sea to shining sea you all celebrated him. Thank you for all the messages and photos all these years.

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So, getting here. It feels like a hopeful place. It’s a destination where William is warm and alive and connected to not just my heart, but yours, too. I see it in my dreams. So many hearts . He is safely tucked in. This path over the bridge is one of remembrance of his love, his adventures and loyal spirit. With every step his love of family, friends and country is well preserved. I can see it all now. It’s all right here. The journey certainly doesn’t end, but it does become more quiet and private.

 

 

There is a bridge ahead; it’s been beckoning me to cross over. Filled with multiple conflicts it has been difficult to decide which way to go. The bridge appears sturdy and stable, but you know how those old bridges can be. Looks can be deceiving. It’s made of sticks like that Little Pig’s house and we all know how that one ended. Is it safe to say one will make it over? Maybe the best thing is to just stay put, but his favorite poem says, “take that road” and the promise to follow in his light weighs heavy.

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Some bridges are harder to cross than others especially if you are grieving.  The heights are frightening, the stability is often shaky and with no horizon in sight it’s a panic attack in the making.  Bridges can be deceiving, so take your time (however long). Then one day, much to your surprise, there will be a bridge that beckons with hope and peace on the other side. Not like one of those rope type bridges that wobble when one walks over it, but more like a guarded covered bridge. A stable bridge that feels safe. Take the first step and cross over. There’s someone on your shoulder going, too. Remember you are never alone.

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So this is it. The end of the very public grief of GoodGriefCook. The blog is not going away. The journey will always be here with the recipes inspired by the places I have been and the people I love. This celebration of life, love and the healing power of food will always be best read from the beginning, but this is the end as we know it. I think I will name this bridge “gratitude”. I love you William and am ever proud to be your mom.

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To all those thick in their grief just continue one step at a time. Celebrate your person and you, too, will find peace.

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