Comfort notes

OFTEN HERE in Singapore, I don’t need to move away from my desk to survive a hectic workday.  I can successfully keep the insatiable, unceasing hunger pangs at bay with munchies I pop in my mouth from time to time.  You probably think that I could very well have made a pantry of one of the three drawers on my MPD (mobile personal drawer).  To a certain extent, I did.  But I actually survive more through the “love and care for me that is in other people.”

One morning, I found this paper rose on my desk. I still don’t know who made it for me. Ok, cue the song… “Paper roses / paper roses / …” HAHA!

If only my cubicle walls could talk, I would be regaled with anecdotes of food and notes left on my desk by some of the most generous and it has to be said – lovable – people I’ve ever come across here.  The surprises would come in the morning, perfect for starting one’s day, and any other time in between.  Regardless, they’re perfect for adding a spring – no, make that chutzpah – to one’s step in yet another long day in the office.

The food may have long disappeared – believe me, they’ve had (haha!) – but I have the accompanying notes to go back to and read.  They’re like a warm blanket I can pull up to my chin when the cool breeze blows through my windows at night.

And even in the perennial tropic that is the Singaporean warm weather, there really are times when the cool wind blows.

I receive a lot of these from my Malaysian friends. But this one, its Chinese name translated to “Black Sugar Biscuit” has got to be one of the ultimate best!

 

I asked someone to translate for me what these lovely delicious balls of gooey goodness are called. “Black Sugar Biscuits,” he said.

 

Malaysian treats don’t have to exclusively come from Malaysians. I have a Singaporean friend who always remembers me too!

 

These biscuits had a (purple) yam filling. Quite scrumptious too! I liked it.

 

These treats are paper-thin wafers or crepes called “Love Letters,” made by hand by a colleague’s aunt. Each bears a very intricate pattern. They are so delicious.

 

These two boxes came all the way from Shanghai in China, from a beloved colleague I respectfully call “Ms. Lynda.”

 

One box contained these sesame seed finger biscuits that had the feel and taste of biscotti. Perfect with tea or coffee.

 

More cookies in the other box.

 

This is one amazing sandwich made by Betchie (or by her “Staff”). To this slice I sing, “Sana maulit muli…” Hahaha!

 

A variety of teas from Rhonee

 

My current “half-and-half” fixation, introduced to me by Cecille – Cadbury Brunch Bars! Every bar is half guilt, half “good-for-you” goodness.

 

Two muffins from Ms. Sharon

 

Chocolates galore! Godiva, no less. And there are so many others. Like that pack on the left. I’m not crazy about chocolates. But it’s nice to be thought of from time to time.

 

Two of the most heartwarming notes I’ve ever received came from my Bez’s (Glenda) two daughters, Kyla and Keisha!

 

The letter from Keisha opens up, literally, and actually has a story to it.

 

This one is from Kyla.

 

A collage of more recent notes that have been taking up real estate on my wall.

 

This came posted on a couple of morning treats from Ms. Madeline.

 

It’s soya!

 

Saw this on my notebook at the end of a workday.

 

Thanks again, Ms. Madeline!

 

Blast from the past – Some really memorable notes.

 

A lovely note from Trisha. Beside it is a card from Melissa and Sam.

 

Only a true kolehiyala has monogrammed stationery. Hahaha!

 

From Dearest Daphne Tatiana!

 

Of course there is a note from Batman!

 

A farewell note from my Chinese best friend, Bin!

Copyright © 2013 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved

My spaghetti alla carbonara

THE WONDER of home cooking lies in its simplicity.  You fling open the refrigerator or cupboard door and just take it from there.

My spaghetti alla carbonara! Rich and creamy and yet, no heavy cream!

I feel that the cuisine that renders itself best interpreted at home is Italian.  Their food focuses on the simplest of ingredients, the easiest of preparation, but all leading to maximum effect.  A plate of pasta always seems so special.  And perfect for quieting down after–midnight hunger pangs.

Which is exactly what I’m doing right now as I write this.  I’ve just arrived from another long day at work.  And however tired I may be, I reckon that the 10 minutes total time I need to make my pasta–fixation–of–the-moment will be time well spent.

Having been cooking for close to three decades now, I know that by the time the pasta is al dente, I shall be reaping the rewards of my solitary dinner awash with the feeling of an incredibly indulgent spoiled child.

As they say, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.  Spaghetti alla carbonara is a Roman invention.  So I find it quite respectful to cook it as the Romans do – which means totally devoid of the heavy cream that the Filipino version swims in.  Traditionally, spaghetti alla carbonara is made with olive oil, guanciale or pancetta, fresh whole eggs, equal parts of Pecorino Romano and Parmigiano–Reggiano cheeses, and lots of freshly cracked black pepper.

Dried spaghetti usually takes 12 minutes to cook.  Since I always cook my pasta one to two minutes less than what the package tells me, I decide on 10 minutes.

This is how I make one portion.  As applicable, I indicate the brands I actually use or prefer.    Feel free to use yours.  Some are clearly substitutions (I don’t have guanciale or pancetta right now!).

Refrigerator and store cupboard essentials to a most satisfying spaghetti carbonara!

 

One whole egg when I’m less hungry. Two when I really am. Of course, two means I’m making enough for two portions, but to be consumed by only me. Haha! It is important to use UV-sterilized eggs. And oh yes, bring it to room temperature first.

 

Regardless of whether I’m doing one or two portions, I use three to five rashers of Danish streaky bacon every single time.

 

On this one time, I used exactly only three rashers.

 

I’ve always loved De Cecco dried pasta which I believe is simply the best. But I’m pleasantly surprised to be enjoying Arrighi lately!

 

 

I know that salt is salt is salt. But there’s something about MORTON® coarse Kosher salt that just makes any dish more delicious.

 

MILLEL® remains to be my favorite parmesan cheese. I’d buy it in wedges which I’d snack on without ceasing. But whenever there’s no MILLEL®, there’s always Kraft® or Perfect Italiano™. Its flavor is bold but not quite strong.

 

In my recipe I say “dice” the guanciale, pancetta or streaky bacon. But you can just simply slice it any which way you want.

 

A serving portion for one needs about a quarter of a pound of dried pasta. That’s a quarter of a pack or box. To clarify, this again is a portion for one – make that, “one eNTeNG.” Two less hungry people can share this amount.

Bring water to a boil in a pot that is deeper rather than wider.  Add about a tablespoon of Morton® coarse Kosher salt (this is not the time to make your pasta water as salty as the Mediterranean!) and cook about a quarter pound of De Cecco®, Arrighi® or San Remo® spaghetti.  (I set my timer at five minutes so I can check the pasta halfway through.)

To a heavy bottom skillet on medium flame, add a kiss of Bertolli® Classico olive oil (“mild taste”) and three to five strips of SuperFresh® Danish streaky bacon that have been diced.  While the fat renders out, crack one large whole egg into a bowl and beat it until frothy.  In a separate bowl or on to a huge wooden cutting board, grate half a cup each of Pecorino Romano and Parmigiano–Reggiano cheese.  Or, just cheat by using Kraft® 100% real grated parmesan cheese – nothing wrong with that.  Add the cheese (or cheeses) to the beaten egg and freshly crack lots of McCormick® black pepper into the mixture.  Stir to combine.

Drain the pasta when it is done, but set aside about a quarter of a cup of the pasta water.  Add the pasta to the egg and cheese mixture and quickly toss it well.  You’re essentially cooking the egg with the heat of the pasta.  To further emulsify the sauce, add the pasta water gradually – you don’t need to add all of it in.  Now, add the crisped streaky bacon, a splash of the rendered out fat (already mixed with that “kiss” of the olive oil), and toss all together.  Taste for seasoning.  As needed, you may add a little more cheese and black pepper.

Enjoy!  Didn’t I tell you that this can make you feel rewarded, spoiled, and incredibly indulgent?  Heaven.  I’m in heaven.

The ease of making pasta lies in the fact that the sauce will almost always be ready by the time the pasta is done. That is, “al dente”. For my spaghetti alla carbonara, I start rendering the bacon (fat) after I have plunged the dried pasta in the boiling water. From this point, total cooking time should be 10 minutes almost exactly!

 

Get ’em sizzling. To a heavy bottom skillet on medium flame, add a kiss of Bertolli® Classico olive oil (“mild taste”) and three to five strips of SuperFresh® Danish streaky bacon that have been diced.

 

Get it crackin’! While the fat renders out from the streaky bacon, crack one large whole egg into a bowl and beat it until frothy. To this, you add the cheese or cheeses. No hard rule as to how much, besides “as much as you want of equal parts Pecorino Romano and Parmigiano–Reggiano.” My recipes will never hold you under s tyranny.

 

See, sometimes I don’t even follow my own recipe. On nights when I would feel as over incredibly indulgent as lazy, I wouldn’t even mind beating the eggs until frothy before I dump the cheese and freshly cracked black pepper in. Clearly it works just fine. Just don’t start by whisking vigorously or you’ll end up with cheese all over your face.

 

This is the golden sunshine of a sauce, waiting to be hit by the heat of the pasta. This is quite “savory” – the cheeses are nutty, the egg creamy, and the freshly cracked black pepper oozing with boskiness. Yum.

 

Getting there. The pasta and the bacon are done. At this point, all you need to prepare for is to.. toss, toss, toss… and toss well! Make sure you did set aside a little of the pasta water! The starch that the dried pasta gave off to the water will help further emulsify the sauce. My mouth is watering just thinking about it!

 

I do beg you to please try to follow my recipe. BUT, nothing is keeping you from tipping the pasta over to the pot where the bacon rendered its fat. Again, one of those lazy nights. Haha! The only drawback of doing this is that the strands of spaghetti will be coated with the oil and fat, and to a certain extent, will make it a bit difficult for the (egg) sauce to cling to the pasta. But the result is delicious just the same.

 

In keeping with the lazy mood I was in on the night I took this, I poured the sauce on to the already-mixed spaghetti and bacon. Then, I tossed like crazy.

 

I tumbled the tossed pasta back into the bowl where I mixed the sauce. I have to say, this was such a delicious, scrumptious bowl I brought back to the bedroom with me.

 

This was the last one I made. Just last night. Make that way past midnight! This bowl was the result of all the steps outlined in my recipe.

 

I must’ve slurped my way through the spaghetti. Hahaha! It was so good.

 

Spaghetti alla carbonara loosely translates to “coal miner’s spaghetti”. Like the other pasta I’m quite fond of, spaghetti alla carbonara has an interesting story. Legend has it, Italian men who work in the mines would whip this dish up quickly for lunch time. The generous sprinkling of black pepper reminds them of the coals. Hence the name. Hahaha!

Copyright © 2013 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved

The Summit rises

I LOVE surrounding myself with people who are far smarter than I am – or ever could be.  That way, if I’m very lucky, one could be a teacher to me.

I love the company of my female friends because while I may be so close to a female first cousin, I still technically do not have a sister.

I love that no matter how much you feel like you already have all the people you need in your life, there will always be room for someone new.  And how you meet this someone new could be the stuff of stories worth looking back to.

I love that even with all the oceans and seas geography puts between people, there is always a way to get in touch.  And keep in touch.

One of the definitive farewell dinners I had before leaving for Singapore was of course with the Summit. This was at The Podium, June 2011.

 

She handled the extensive buffet spread in style.

Last year, one of my closest friends left the Philippines as one of the principal scholars of the Fulbright Classic Program.  She was one of only three PhD students in a fellowship of nine – how so Lord of the Rings! – and was the only one in Communication.  Specifically, she is taking up her PhD in Rhetorics, Communication and Information Design.

She told me that she is working on “a research that will focus on web video, the politics of the everyday, and the cultural identities we embed, create, and recreate as our mundane interactions become more and more mediated.  This is true especially among diasporic Filipinos.”  Her fascination has always been with the web and visual communication.  And she wants “to be able to author studies that will be of use to societies, especially among Filipinos.”  I remember these to be her words.  I recall these now and I feel that I’m at the mercy of Meclizine HCl.  I get nauseous just attempting to fathom her depth.

But before I could even launch into a dizzying spin, I get reminded that this is the same person who, at one point in the past, orchestrated a shopping day for us by first presenting me with a formal, well-written “project proposal” – the kind that gets presented to venture capitalists.  Depth, a sense of humor, and yes, biting sarcasm are a lethal combination.

I look forward to the right time when we’d share a lazy day in the sun, shop ‘til we drop, have coffee, and trade stories.  Nothing does beat surrounding myself with people smarter than I am.  I’ve found one teacher.  And what’s actually better – I’ve found in this teacher yet another real friend who has my welfare at heart.

Today, the 14^th of May is her birthday.  Happy birthday, Data!  I can’t wait to call you Data, MA, PhD!

Data, my friend who I fondly call as “The Summit”, recently participated in the Twin Cities Fulbright Enrichment Seminar. (Photos are hers unless otherwise stated.)

 

The Twin Cities Fulbright Enrichment Seminar is a melding of cultures and the brightest minds of today. Who says that intellect is not akin to having fun? Here are Data and her fellow participants in a seeming “telenovela” pose. I see the Patriarch of a rich clan caught in the midst of his three warring daughters. Haha!

 

This photo brings South East Asia and Central America in one frame.

 

Group Dynamics is one reason to engage in a lively discussion. Or argument. Haha! From left to right: The Philippines, Spain, Germany, and Indonesia. This photo is owned by Patrick Muhire of the Twin Cities Fulbright Enrichment Seminar Group.

 

Data in another group photo. Again, Data… HAPPY BIRTHDAY! It’s such a vicarious thrill to see you living your dreams. And not stopping to learn more in this world. I already feel smarter just by my association with you. Take care!

 

Copyright © 2013 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved

The Great Gatsby

My copy of the American classic The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. This is a 1953 re-print of the 1925 original. Cover art is by the great Paul Bacon.

BY THE end of the first three paragraphs of The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s third novel, I knew I would not be able to put it down anymore until I hit the end.

Anybody who has ever asked me about my writing would know that I would always struggle with the opening paragraph.  To me it’s the most important part of any written work.  When I get past it, everything else just flows.  And this is why I love The Great Gatsby, the novel.  The opening paragraph can hold you captive – up until you read about “a sense of the fundamental decencies” by the time you reach the bottom of page one.

I own the 181–page, 1953 re–print of the 1925 classic.  The cover art is not the original Francis Cugat but is Paul Bacon, regarded as one of the most prolific book jacket artists of all–time.  The unforgettable cover art for CATCH–22 and One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest were also by him.

Back to the prose.  I will forever hold The Great Gatsby – often called the best American fiction ever written – in the highest regard not for the story it tells, but for how this story was written.  F. Scott Fitzgerald’s writing is stylish, elegant and sparse yet enough to bring into existence characters with varying shades of hue and perceptible depth.  This quality in his writing may have prompted Baz Luhrmann to render his celluloid interpretation of this beloved classic in 3D.

I won’t say that The Great Gatsby is the best written work of fiction.  But for how it was written, I have only one word in mind.  Perfect.

My copy sits perfectly with my wristwatch magazines and notebooks.

 

This copy was published by Charles Scribner’s Sons/New York, the original publisher of the 1925 first edition.

 

Copyright Page. Cover art is by Paul Bacon.

Now, how does the movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Tobey Maguire, Jason Clarke, Isla Fisher, and Carey Mulligan measure up?  We’ll see.  I’m re-reading the book before I hit the cinemas.

About 10% of what’s on queue for my reading. Hahaha! That’s Carey Mulligan, who plays the role of Daisy Buchanan in Baz Luhrmann’s celluloid interpretation of The Great Gatsby.

 

Carey and Eric with Jay

 

Copyright © 2013 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved

Happy birthday, Trisha!

SOME OF the best people I’ve ever met in my life I met and became friends with in the States 10 years ago.  Thanks to all that technology affords us now, meeting in person seems to have become not a necessity anymore.  Well, until you find out that you would be spending some “real” face time and you realize that nothing beats seeing these great friends once again.  What did that song say?  Oh, “ain’t nothin’ like the real thing.”

eNTeNG and his good good friend Mama Trisha, Singapore, 2013

I was in the States to work on a project.  And as with most projects in my line of work, it was highly matrixed, highly collaborative, and highly integrative.  That’s where I first met Trisha in person.  I emphasize “in person” because prior that, I have known her by her name – one which has long been synonymous with leadership in her team.

I accompanied Trisha to get a new compact digital camera. She lost the one she brought with her.

 

There’s no doubt where I later brought Trisha for our version of a “walking” tour of the city. I told her that my version has only my favorite places. Hahaha! Side note, don’t you just love that sculpture of a candy wrapped in the colors of the Singaporean flag? (Actually, the Singapore flag!)

 

On the day of the team lunch in honor of Trisha, I chose to wear my shirt that has the colors of the American flag. Also in the photo is Kuya Mike.

Like Alka-seltzer you dissolve in water to give an effervescent solution, Trisha is the kind of colleague who can neutralize highly stressful personalities and situations with her bubbly personality and her witticisms.  And meeting her once again – in of all places, the Lion City – just proved a couple of points.  The years have been kind to her.  And she has lost none of her charms – the very same things that led me and my Filipino colleagues to lovingly refer to her as “Mama Trisha.”  (Fortunately for us, Trisha was one of two “Mamas” we found in California.)

And true to her natural nourishing nature, she is quite the home cook and baker.  Her banana nut bread was the stuff my Folsom years were made of.  I would slather lots of butter on slices she would send my way.  The notes that would accompany the food she shared are still with me.  I would read them when I need reminding of good times.

Thursday, the 9^th of May, was her birthday.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TRISHA!

As you may well know, it’s been my tradition to send my friends off at the airport. Trisha’s flight out was quite early. But as promised, I was at the lobby of the hotel by 4:00 AM.

 

Trisha at Changi Airport. I hope to see you again soon!

Copyright © 2013 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved

For the love of tomato

With tomatoes, garlic and basil, I’m always halfway to a satisfying pasta.

THE TOMATOES are not San Marzano, the kind ripened by the kisses of the Neapolitan sun.  They’re not even the more accessible Roma.  They’re from Malaysia by way of Cold Storage.

Except for Bertolli that originates from Lombardy, none of my store cupboard essentials for my fail–safe pasta boasts of direct Italian provenance.  The garlic is from China and is packed clustered in bulbs of a few cloves each, ready to be thrown in to bak kut teh (pork ribs soup).  The cayenne pepper is a Kiwi.  The basil leaves – bunches of heady perfume – come proudly from Malaysia too.  While suspiciously named after a Catholic saint, the angel hair pasta hails from Down Under.  The grated parmesan cheese, as if snow falling on cedars, trickle down on to the pasta all the way from the States.

The coarse salt I use to make the pasta water as salty as the Mediterranean and the sauce tasty and balanced is Kosher, from Chicago, and is endorsed by one of my favorite chefs, Rocco DiSpirito.  Oh, there’s at least one more Italian connection after all.

I’ve been fixing myself a huge bowl of my angel hair pomodoro for about five nights in a row now.  And I don’t see the craving letting up any time soon.  I’ve been in dire need of comfort that only it can provide.

The byproduct – the study in globalization that makes it to my heavy bottom skillet just before I toss the finished dish on to my shallow bowl – never ceases to amuse me with its apparent depth.

In the middle of the night, I would suddenly have the urge to make this pasta. Whenever I’ve run out of supplies, I can just walk to the nearest Cold Storage. If it would be past 10:00 PM, I’d go to Fair Price Xtra.

 

It’s quite important to wash your fresh produce well. As you can see, I just throw everything in my trusty IKEA strainer and wash away. I rub the skins of the tomatoes pretty vigorously while singing. Hahaha.

 

The thing about making pasta is that with experience, you shall never be under the tyranny of the recipe. On a whim, I count three or four tomatoes to go to the making of my sauce. No hard and fast rules.

 

I’ve espoused blanching the tomatoes first, then peeling off the skin and de-seeding them before they are used. But sometimes, a rough dice, with skins and all, doesn’t hurt.

 

For this meal in minutes, a rough dice would do just fine. The flavor of Malaysian tomatoes does not come close to San Marzano or even Roma, but what it lacks in that department (“flavor” in the context of Italian sauce) it more than makes up for with it meaty flesh.

 

Making this five nights in a row would surely put a dent on my extra virgin olive oil stash. Here I am, finishing yet again another 500-mL bottle. Fortunately for me though, when Kuya Michele left Singapore at the end of his months-long assignment, he handed down to me ALL his remaining grocery items. There were bottles upon bottles of this golden green culinary jewel of an oil.

 

The sauce starts with extra virgin olive oil, garlic and cayenne pepper every single time.

 

Making this is always a two-burner affair. You make the sauce as you boil the pasta away – always 30 seconds less than what the box or package tells you. It’s because I always tip the cook pasta over into the sauce. And they always finish about the same time.

 

Nothing splatters likes tomatoes. You shall know this once the roughly diced fruit hits the hot oil.

 

The moment the angel hair is done – in all of one and a half minutes only – I tear the basil leaves on the bubbling sauce. I tumble the pasta on to this and I’m ready to eat.

 

What I take to my mouth with every bite is a shameless amount. Haha! No wonder that a pound ogf dry pasta lasts me only three servings.

 

On some nights, I’m so hungry that I see the extra step of plating to be such unbearable delay. So I eat straight from the pan. Anyway, I never would share this. Hahaha!

Copyright © 2013 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved

#18 Risa Hontiveros

That’s me and Ms. Risa Hontiveros, candidate for Philippine Senate in Monday’s national elections. This was taken at the NAIA, on the day of my departure for Singapore in 2011. Ms. Hontiveros was on her way to the States for a speaking engagement, if I remember it correctly. We shared the waiting area and a hearty conversation. She was so nice!

THOUGH THEY do have it on recorded history, the United States doesn’t have a monopoly on the inalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Nor do they have exclusive rights on how these rights are secured – the governments instituted among men derive their “just powers from the consent of the governed.”  This is why we have elections.

In a world that has long stood as witness to people’s rights being trampled upon, I’m quite proud of those moments – yes, they may be far between – when my country has breathed life to a democracy that is alive, well and kicking.  The 2010 elections was the last testament to this.

On Monday, my countrymen will again go to the polls to elect leaders to national posts.  Politics has always been a topic for healthy discussion at home.  We’ve never been a “more divided” household than in the 2010 elections – though everybody’s opinions were heard and respected – but this year, we’ve come to agree on one name.  (“Agree” is the operative word.  And it is relative.)

Risa Hontiveros deserves to be in the Philippine Senate.  She is principled and independent with her thoughts, her words buoyed by the characteristic gentleness and affectedly modest demeanor of a true Ilongga.  But to me she is more.  She is Roosevelt’s words incarnate – she speaks softly but she carries a big stick.  Oh, make that her magic purple “alampay” (scarf).

The power of the people is on the ballots.  May the force be with her on Election Day.

Risa Hontiveros is #18 on the ballot.  Let’s take her all the way to the Magic 12.

Copyright © 2013 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved

Plain and less

I’VE SUDDENLY become virtuous in satiating my cravings.  While I’ve run back to the familiar loving embrace of former flames – bagel and cream cheese – I’ve become exacting with their provenance.  Bagel should be plain and from NYC Bagel Factory.  Cream cheese?  The ubiquitous Philadelphia, conspicuously unavailable now in my favorite “whipped” variant but equally satisfying as “spreadable.”  And yes, the one with 80% less fat.

Plain and Less. But amazingly satisfying.

 

80% less fat (than butter or margarine). This thought comes in handy as I shove down my throat all the Danish streaky bacon I could handle. Hahaha!

 

Copyright © 2013 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved

Mommy

“I ❤ MY MOM”… I wear this for my Mama, Mommy, and Lola, the Women in my life.

I GREW up in a loving home, and it helped a lot that I had my maternal grandmother as a constant fixture in my formative years.

She has been there from when I was a 5-lb baby in the ICU, watching over me everyday after work.  She would always comment how happy she was that I made it past my 10^th day and grew up to be this tall, when doctors had said I wouldn’t make it.

All my summers were spent with her as she would bring me along to all her vacations.  I would look forward to all those summers.

I love it that she used to tease me as her “second” favorite because frankly, she never made me feel next to anybody.  She applauds my talents and always genuinely wants me to sing for her.

At 87, when she went for hip replacement surgery after an accident, she asked me to be with her in the Operating Room.  I didn’t know a better place to be in to celebrate my birthday that year.

On my last visit home, she asked when I would come back.  She would joke that she might be gone and that I would be away when that happens.  She’s 91 now – pushing to 92 this year – and was admitted in the ER yesterday morning before being immediately transferred to the ICU.

I’ve been praying that she makes it.  I love her very very very much.

Mommy’s hospital ID bracelet from three years ago. Yes, I keep stuff like this.

Copyright © 2013 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved