The Royal Wedding and Afternoon Tea
My friend Nora and I were chatting on the phone yesterday, as we were wont to do sometimes in the middle of the week. It gave us a breather from the humdrum task of our household chores. Since the pandemic occurred a few years ago, people are loath to congregate as casually as before. I take my cup of tea to the kitchen table and sit down with a sigh of contentment. I imagine Nora doing the same.
With a little chuckle she spoke of Maggie, one of the ladies at the synagogue. Maggie has a way of speaking which is quite amusing. This Saturday after the services were over and everyone sat down for refreshments, she announced, “Let me tell you, last night I attended the most amazing wedding! It was divine!”
“Oh! Who got married?” she was asked.
With an impish look upon her face, she said, “The late King Hossein of Jordan’s grandson!”
“We then spoke of afternoon teas. I recalled my mother’s group of ladies. Since I was a little girl until I became a young mother and right up to the time of the revolution when we all fled the country, they steadfastly met each Wednesday for afternoon tea. I recalled one time when someone had passed away rather suddenly, one of the ladies commented that was a great to die. One of my aunts commented in astonishment,”Are you envying death now?” Later, many years later, she understood that definitely could be the case, for my mother suffered for many long years before God deigned to take her. When she passed away, I remember thinking that at last she is free. She is not imprisoned in her body with only her eyes expressing her pain and silent anguish. At which point Nora spoke of a lady who had been a friend of my mother in Iran. She had left Iran decades before we did. She lived in a charming little house in Glen Cove overlooking the Long Island Sound. She was a free spirited and vivacious lady. I had not known that she had passed away. Apparently one evening her regular taxi driver brought her home. He waited to make sure that she had safely got into her house, then, before he left, turned around to make sure she had not left anything behind. He spied her cane leaning against the seat. He took the cane and got out. He rang her bell but got no response. Concerned, he rang several more times, but but still received no answer. Concerned, he rang her neighbour’s door and explained the situation. The neighbour had a copy of her key. They opened her front door. They found her at the entrance. She had passed away as soon as she got into her house.
So yes Auntie, one can only pray for a painless death with no suffering.
There was a great pause over the telephone line. We did not want to end our conversation on this sombre note. “So what are you making for dinner?” I asked.
Nora loved to speak about the dishes she prepares for her family. “We are having beet kibbeh tonight,” came the reply.
Beet kibbeh? Yum! I haven’t made that in ages! I think I will make that soon. I will ask Kelly to buy some small sweet beets next weekend, before the season is over! Yum, yum and another yum!
Of this and that and other things, that’s what we chat about!