Run towards life

and a recipe for a peach of a pie - because you should always eat pie first

I’m rarely at a loss for words.

And so each week when I sit down to write this newsletter, it’s more a matter of sifting, processing, winnowing the many words crowding in my head to get to the heart of what I want to say.

And then I read something so powerful, so clear and true, that I put my own words aside to give space to a better, stronger voice. I did that last year when I posted this wonderful story from Michael Gardner about his dad. This week I’m sharing something, with permission from Yvonne Ator, about her friend Kerri Grote, who died of brain cancer.

As you sit and read this, breathe deeply, lift your face to the sun and shine bright. As Kerri said, life is short - eat the pie first.

"If you’re reading this, this fu$king brain cancer probably got me.

But let me be crystal clear while I’m able: I did not “lose a battle” against cancer. This is a ridiculous, steamy pile of horse shit that society has dumped on cancer patients. Western medicine, and Western culture, especially, is so uncomfortable talking about death that instead it created this “battle” analogy that basically shames people who die from cancer.

News flash: None of us gets out alive from this rodeo called life.

There is no shame in dying from cancer – or any serious illness. And it doesn’t need to be a battle. It’s a transition that each of us will go through. I was asked by a shaman, whom I spoke to after my second brain surgery, “Are you running towards life or running away from death?”

Whoa! That got my attention.

There’s a BIG difference. I got it wrong more often than not.

Don’t let fear fuel your choices. Live fearlessly. Run TOWARDS life. Don’t worry about what people will think. Trust me, it doesn’t matter.

Focus on you. Be true to yourself. Be your own best friend. People who tell you you’re selfish are not your people. If the voice in your head says these unkind things, get a new voice. Honor your mental health and seek out a good therapist with the same vigor you’d search for a romantic partner.

Speaking of, be intentional about cultivating friendships that lift you up. As those friendships grow and change, don’t overlook them while you search for that “great love of your life.” (No, I’m not suggesting you sleep with your bestie. But you do you!).

Another unhelpful message that we get from society is that we need a “love of our life,” as a romantic partner.

Single and childless when I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, I looked around my life and came up sputtering and sobbing from the wave of grief washed over me. I thought I’d be doing this alone… no husband, no kids, no “great love.”

How wrong I was. At the first appointment with my neuro oncologists, one of the nurses diligently hauled in chair after chair for the great loves of my life who came with me that horrible day and many days after that.

I sat and listened while the doctor explained the 12-month treatment plan, focusing on my breathing, then looked around the room…. filled with great loves of my life: incredible women friends whom I had met at various stages of my life.

Surround yourself with people who contradict that unkind voice, people who see your light, and remind you who you are: an amazing soul.

Learn how to receive these reflections from your people. Because they are speaking the Truth.

Love yourself, no matter how weird and silly it might feel. Every morning, give yourself a hug before your feet hit the floor. Look deeply into your eyes in a mirror. Say to yourself, out loud, “I trust you.” That voice in your head might say you’re a dork. Ignore it.

As I prepare to leave this body and embark on this mysterious journey of my soul, I hope these observations from my deathbed are somehow useful.

What I know, deep in my bones, is that learning to love myself has led me to be able to say this: I’m so proud of how I lived.

May you, dear reader, feel the same when you head out on your soul journey, too. Until then, enjoy the ride. And always eat dessert first, especially if there’s pie!"

Thank you Kerri. Life is short. Love, dance, eat the pie first - and run towards life.

Peach Pie

makes one 9" pie

There are certain foods that have a fleeting life, their peak flavours sharpened by memory and desire.  Tomatoes have long been my obsession;  I can't bear the thought of not having my fill of that juicy, sweet and acidic burst of summer.

But lately I have a new diversion.  How is it that I never noticed how perfect a perfectly ripe peach really is?  The joy of finding one that is both firm and juicy, not too soft, the juices running down my chin, the flesh ripping away cleanly from the stone at the centre.   

As the season’s first peaches make their way to the market, I’ll be making this pie in honour of Kerri. Whatever favourite thing you make this week, savour it, share it and run towards life.

Ingredients

2½ pounds peaches, peeled, pitted and sliced

¾ cup sugar

1 tablespoon lemon juice

2 teaspoons grated lemon zest

1 tablespoon fresh grated ginger

½ teaspoon cinnamon

¼ teaspoon mace

¼ teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons instant tapioca

½ cup ground gingersnap cookies

Your favourite pie dough, enough for a double crust pie

1 egg white, mixed with 1 teaspoon water

1. Preheat oven to 425F.

2. In a medium saucepan, cook peaches, sugar, lemon juice, zest, ginger, cinnamon, mace and salt over medium-low heat for 10 minutes.  Take off heat and stir in tapioca.

3. Prepare pie dough by rolling out a 10" inch round for the bottom.  Fit the dough into your pie pan and sprinkle the gingersnap crumbs evenly along the bottom.  Let the dough rest in the fridge for 10 minutes before proceeding.

4. Pour the peach mixture evenly into the pan.  Brush the edges of the dough with the beaten egg.  Top the pie with another round of dough and crimp the edges.  Make a few decorative slits on the pie top.  Let the dough rest again for 10 minutes before baking.  This pie is very pretty with a lattice top too.*  

5. Bake the pie on the middle rack of the oven for 10 minutes at 425F.  Lower the heat to 350F, and bake for another 40 to 50 minutes, or until the top is golden and the juices of the fruit are bubbling.

*Hint for lattice top lovers: make the lattice top on a piece of parchment paper, and once done, slip it on a cutting board and into the freezer for a few minutes.  It will be much easier to position and trim on the pie.