When Mondays are Sundays and Pie is for Healing

1. One of my favorite things about being a nurse is my weird work schedule. For instance, today is Monday, but I worked the weekend. So, while many on Twitter bemoan Monday morning, I am in my jammies, drinking coffee. Outside, the steady fall of rain adds to the illusion of a leisurely Sunday morning. There’s something appealingly decadent about having time off when most people work. It almost makes up for the nights, weekends, and holidays I’ve worked the past twenty-five years.

Rain is the color of introspection, and grief.

2. A friend died last week. It was not unexpected, but it was a complex relationship, and there was no fairy tale ending. In an odd coincidence, earlier in the week I’d attended a book signing at a local bookstore. The author, Beth Howard, wrote Making Piece, a Memoir of Love, Loss, and Pie (Harlequin, 2012) and blogs at The World Needs More Pie.

I tried Howard’s approach to healing through pie making. I have made pies since I was twelve. As my hands worked the pastry for an apple pie after work on Saturday, I realized I make pies for holidays or birthdays, but never as an event of its own, never just for myself. David and I skipped over dinner for dessert. It was the first time I enjoyed one of my pies warm from the oven.

I do feel better. Maybe the world does need more pie.