Geri

This is indeed a sad day. My beloved friend Geri passed from this earthly realm yesterday afternoon.

Most everyone thought Geri was a straight arrow, but I knew differently. She’d give me an eye roll, but just slightly, when no one else saw. She stood up for equal rights in her home, taking Sundays off from cooking and refusing to co-mingle her small social security pension. She quilted baby blankets for each of my grandchildren. She liked my kids when I had reservations about them and encouraged me to stay in the game, even when I frequently lost a battle.

Geri and her husband delivered Meals On Wheels to homebound residents, and volunteered for various church service projects.  Neither expected recognition.  In fact I can see her now — flashing me her evil look with that disapproving eye roll over this tribute.

Just like her heart, her oven was always open for her good friends. She baked twenty-five dozen pastries for my daughter’s wedding, and not because anyone asked. Each, from perfectly molded hand dipped lady fingers to pinwheel cookies, looked as if it had been purchased from the finest bakery. And chocolate dipped strawberries and pies… yum. Cucumber pickles and blackberry freezer jam labeled with her name fill my refrigerator shelves.

She had a recipe for fruit cake cookies. Years before I actually tasted one, I pretended to like them. But one day, when face to face, and no pocket to casually stash the uneaten cookie, I took a bite. It was delicious. Why had I doubted her? I could have enjoyed more of them for a longer time.

The same with Geri. I wanted to enjoy her longer. The day before she went in for surgery, my husband and I delivered a fresh strawberry pie to her home and sat for a visit. But I left with a jar of raspberry jam. I never could get one up on her. She was always ahead.

And she’s ahead now too. She’s with God, filling His refrigerator with freezer jam and setting out a welcome dish of candied walnuts.