A Real Love Story

(photo credit Roxanne Turpen)

Next Tuesday, April 30 my younger sister and her husband will celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. In this brave new world we occupy, twenty-five years together is pretty impressive for any couple. But like Piscine Patel says in The Life of Pi, "I have a story that will make you believe in God."

7 months before the accident

Sharon was 15 when our lives changed forever. She was walking home from school, I suppose somewhat mindlessly, as teen girls will do, and crossed a busy four-lane highway. She was struck by a vehicle going about 35 mph, which lifted her out of her shoes and onto the windshield. She was without oxygen for some time due to something she was eating getting lodged in her throat. Other than the severe closed head injury and brain trauma, there were no broken bones. She was life-flighted to the hospital where she lay in a deep coma for over 6 weeks. I saw her the first time two weeks after it happened when I managed to get a ride home from college, which was 300 miles away. My family was still reeling from the trauma, and wondering if she would live or die. And if she lived, what would the future be like?

After some weeks, she reached for a piece of cake. This was the first indication that she was emerging from the coma. Over the course of the next two years she slowly came out of the fog, re-learning everything from feeding herself, to sitting up, walking, speaking, reading and writing. Her personality remained intact - social, lively, engaged. But just about everything else changed. She returned to high school at 17 and completed her years there in the special education department at age 19, earning her diploma. But she could not drive. She could not cook.  Couldn't hold a job. Couldn't ride a bike. She could walk, but her gait was not right and she stopped frequently to adjust the position of her right foot. Her common sense and relationship discernment were compromised and she lacked many basic skills for independent living. In addition, she suffered terrible brain seizures which left her babbling streams of words that had nothing to do with each other. My parents began to plan for a lifetime of care.

My family attended a local church where they received a tremendous amount of support. There were so many kind people that walked with my parents through those rough years. In the 1980s, computer technology was gaining ground and John was someone my Dad was able to chat with about this mutually interesting topic. John was an electrical engineer and so intelligent, that most average folks had a hard time conversing with him. He would just talk over their heads. But my father found a pal in John and their friendship developed over time.

One day John asked my dad if he could take my sister Sharon to a lecture at a local university. Dad assured him that he was welcome to ask her, but he didn't know if she would be interested in something like that. However, she wanted to go and was thrilled that someone was asking her on an outing. A week later, John asked my dad again if he could ask Sharon to dinner. My dad, genius that he is, realized that John wanted to date Sharon, and he quickly briefed John about Sharon's tendency to latch on to anyone that would give her attention.

John's reply was, "That's okay, I want to spend time with her. I believe God has told me to marry Sharon."

Wow. It was an amazing thing to behold that courtship and engagement, then with tear-filled eyes, watch as my sister walked down the aisle, a beautiful radiant bride. Of course, we all wondered how it would really go. Would they make it? Would John be able to love her in spite of the difficulties and vast differences between them? Could they have children? Would Sharon be able to care for a household?

But as they moved into their first home together, it was evident that John loved Sharon. Loved, as in an action verb. They set up housekeeping and arranged their furniture and put their wedding gifts away. He bought a tandem bike so they could ride together. They shopped for groceries together and went camping. He patiently and lovingly taught her so many things.

One fond memory I have, that will forever endear me to my brother-in-law was when they invited us for dinner one night. John had been at work all day, so I was unsure of what we were having, or who would prepare it. When we arrived, the table was set with their finest and we were invited to sit down. Sharon had been working all day to prepare a meal of omelets and some other things I don't remember. The food was incredible. I was truly in shock. It had far exceeded all of my expectations. I wanted to know how Sharon had come so far in her skills.

She showed me the five pages of typed instructions that John had written out for her, just for the omelet preparation. What normally would have filled the front of an index card had been dissected into every possible decision and step so that Sharon would not be wondering about anything. Where to find the potato peeler. Where to put the peelings. Which knife to use and where to find it. How large the pieces of potato should be. Which pot should be used to boil the potatoes. Where to find it. How much water to put in the pot. What setting on the stove the burner should be at. How long to expect the potatoes to boil before soft. Etc. Etc. Etc. No detail was left out, and as a result we all enjoyed a delicious meal, proudly prepared and served by this loving wife, and lovingly taught by her amazing husband.

They have not been without difficulty. They have overcome obstacles that every couple faces, and some that not many couples face at all. They have never had children. There have been some physical ailments and illness. Sharon endured two failed and one successful attempt to have her ankle bones fused together (along with the successive months-long recoveries each time). She has two new knees. John has health problems, too. They have suffered some accusation and a generous amount of misunderstanding. But they indeed do love each other. Really love.

And their silver anniversary is a testament to the God that called them together and has held them together. Their faith is the glue of their lives as they daily call out to God for help and guidance.

So, CONGRATULATIONS to one of the most overcoming couples I know! May you enjoy many, many more years of joy together!

Flour + Eggs = Pasta!

(This post is the second on pasta...find the first here.)

Simple food. Preparation easy enough to afford the cook some much needed quality time with the people she (or he) is feeding. If you are too exhausted from cooking to enjoy the people you are serving, then it's too complicated. Do the French spend ANY time with their families after their Oscar worthy culinary performances?

Ah, but the Italians. Now they have absolutely mastered the marriage of simple ingredients, amazing food and wine, great conversation, and the ability to include everyone within smelling distance in the warmth of their homes and love. When I lived in Italy, if there was one thing I wanted to soak up like a thirsty sponge, it was this lovely symphony of kitchen skills.

La mama is truly the heart of the home. I know, I know...women aren't the only great cooks. And I know, not all, not even many, women want to be relegated to this familial duty, but I relish it, and hope to share this passion with others. 

      

So, pasta. Yep, all there is to it is flour and eggs. And la macchina. Must have one of these:

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There are many brands now in the US, and they are not too hard to find. We devoted a cooking lesson to this skill and the next day, my girls swooped in and gobbled up every pasta machine in town! 

I'll try and explain the process here, but like with a lot of things, you've just got to get your hands dirty and try it. 

Step 1: For two people, use one egg and approximately 1 heaping cup of flour. Start by whisking the egg with a fork in a small bowl. While continuing to whisk the egg, sprinkle flour slowly into the bowl. Soon the mixture will become too stiff to continue with the fork, so just start using your hands. When it is right, it will form a very stiff dough, not unlike sugar cookie dough. Cover with a damp cloth on a floured countertop or towel until you are ready to use it. 

Step 2: Using a pastry scraper or large knife, cut off a piece of dough about the size of a golf ball. Cover the unused dough with the damp cloth. Set the pasta machine at the lowest setting; on mine, it's #1. Place the dough in the top of the machine, between the rollers and crank the handle clockwise to squeeze the dough through. This two-handed technique takes a little practice. Fold it over and do it again. Do this 7 or 8 times, till the dough is very smooth. Then continue to do this, changing the setting to higher and higher numbers (without folding) until you are ready to use it. You will have a long narrow (perhaps 3"-4" wide) sheet.

Step 3: Once you have rolled it, lay it out on a floured towel or cotton tablecloth. You then have a couple of options. You can cut it into fettuccine or spaghetti with the attachment on your pasta machine (this requires only one trip through the machine). OR you can form the sheets into stuffed delicacies (which sadly, make this simple process a whole lot more complicated, but fun, and you can rally the troops to help!). For fettuccine, arrange the ribbons into little 'nests' and sprinkle them with a tiny bit of flour. Give them a little shuffle every few minutes while you work the rest of your dough. This will keep it from sticking together.

Step 4: (Simple, fettuccine) If you are not making ravioli, tortellini, agnolotti, or any number of other exotic sounding stuffed pastas, then it's time to cook. Bring a large pot of salted water to a slow boil, and drop the nests into the water for just a few minutes, no more than 3 or 4. Drain and serve on heated plates or pasta bowls. 

Add a bit of your favorite sauce (another lesson) and enjoy. Anything is good...marinara, pesto, bolognese, puttanesca, vodka...whatever. The sauce is not the main attraction anyway, right?

My husband and I make an event out of this on Saturday nights. We turn on our favorite Andrea Bocelli tunes (which has to include "Mille Lune, Mille Onde" one of the most romantic songs EVER), open a bottle of wine, light a few candles, shave the parmigiano reggiano, slice up some really good dried sausage, get out the olives and grapes, and set the table. He sings. We drink and snack on the antipasti. Sometimes we dance and kiss. I make the pasta. He rubs my shoulders. If it's warm, all the better so we can spend the evening outside. 

And on a wintry night in January, a few young ladies came over and we had a lesson. We actually did make ravioli with a chicken, sausage and goat cheese filling. Here are some photos from that really fun night!

          

                           

And my really clean kitchen...which didn't happen til the next morning!