Squirrel’s Vegan Kitchen


Food and time for some reflection
May 21, 2007, 12:20 am
Filed under: Real Food Daily, Vegan with a Vengeance, seitan o'greatness, trader joe's

Yum, yum! I still haven’t been cooking very much lately, we’ve been getting by on eating out (more than we should!) and Jim putting together simple meals like bruschetta on ciabatta and hummus with various dippers. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it’s just not that satisfying 4 nights a week.

From last week, a snacky-time treat:
vegan cheese and seitan
Cashew cheese from Real Food Daily, Seitan O’Greatness, and crackers. I modified the seitan recipe again and used soy sauce for the Worcestershire, omitted the cinammon and paprika and added fennel and liquid smoke. I took the cheese and seitan in for lunch one day and actually got everyone there to try it.

Breakfast this morning:
chocolate chip pancakes
Chocolate Chocolate Chip pancakes from Vegan with a Vengeance with warm, pureed strawberries on top and a tofu scramble consisting of onions, garlic, red potatoes, tofu, nutritional yeast, oregano, turmeric, kalamata olives, sundried tomatoes and spinach. So yummy! We ate at about 11 (okay, that’s not quite breakfast, but hey, it’s Sunday!) and weren’t hungry until 9p.m. tonight. That’s filling!

A quick dinner:
hummus wrap
A whole wheat tortilla slathered with hummus, torn red romaine, a tomato and some slices of pickle with rosemary fries and organic ketchup on the side. So yummy and simple. Now I need to be a good girl and use up the rest of the tortillas instead of forgetting about them and letting them grow mold.

And dessert on the fly:

Vegan chocolate chip cookies from Trader Joe’s with a scoop of Vanilla Fudge Marble Soy Dream in the middle. These cookies (the bag in the background) are the bestest store bought chocolate chip cookies ever, IMO. Well, I do really love Alternative Baking Company, too… Maybe I’d be better not to judge and to just enjoy the goodness that is cookies I don’t have to bake. :)

I have to apologize for being such a crappy blogger friend. I am long overdue, and greatly missing, checking in on your blogs. I have come to think of many of you as good friends and that’s just bad of me. I appreciate all of you for checking in with me and I apologize for not cooking much lately and food my sporadic posts. With releasing the book I’ve been busy, but I also need to set aside more time for it.

I’ve really been reflecting on a lot of things lately. Family, friends and the lines where those relationships cross. Food, health, mental health, disease and death and the lines where those things cross. And I’ve also been looking inward a lot lately, too.

Three weeks ago today my dad died. It was not expected, at least not in a traditional sense. He took his own life. I spent a week in Minnesota with my family and then came back and have been trying to busy myself for the past 2 weeks with the book. But I can’t distract myself and the more I’ve been trying to, the harder it’s been. I wondered whether or not to post anything about it, and I decided at this point I should. Maybe this is too personal for a blog like this, but I like to think that part of the beauty of the internet is being able to connect with other people. That’s what I need and maybe that’s just what some of you need, too. I’m not ashamed to admit the truth or talk about things, it’s not talking about things that keeps people from ever feeling free.

My father lived his life with untreated mental illness. He drank- heavily. But he taught me to throw a football, played Barbies with me in a falsetto voice, taught me to debate, instilled a strong work ethic in me, taught me to seek out knowledge, to be proud of myself and to stand by my convictions unapologetically. He loved his family more than himself, and treated himself in kind. Suicide aside, he only had so much time on Earth because he didn’t take care of himself. He smoked several packs of cigarettes every day, abused his liver daily with large amounts of alcohol, and ate horribly. Fast food and Ramen were his staples. He worked himself to the bone, pulling crazy shifts and at times in my life juggling up to 3 jobs at once to make ends meet. The lack of sleep, addictions and poor eating habits could only go on for so long.

In the past three weeks I’ve learned how common it is that people joke about suicide. I’ve learned how petty people can be, holding minor, pointless grudges against loved ones. And I’ve learned that so many people don’t care about taking care of themselves, even if not for themselves, for their family. A large portion of the people I work with smoke, the largest number of people I’ve ever worked with and an appalling number for health-conscious Oregon. The food they consume often consists of McDonald’s (where the heck is there a McDonald’s in inner SE Portland?), microwave meals and energy drinks. A heavy girl I work with, who claims to be trying to lose weight, was asked by another co-worker about the 2 heaping teaspoons of sugar she was putting in her water bottle. She replied that she couldn’t stand the “taste” of water and had to put sugar in it in order for it to be palatable.

Why don’t people care to take better care of themselves? I was asked recently if I ever miss eating things I used to, meat, cheese, etc. I’m sure these people can’t fathom that I’m telling them the truth when I say, no, not only do I not miss it, I find it repulsive. I eat significantly more healthily than the majority of these folks, and I’m by far not the most healthy vegan out there. But I care about my body, not only because I want to be healthy, but because I want to do everything I can preventatively to keep myself around to be there for my family, to have a healthy vessel to carry our future children in, to see my grandchildren.

My father wanted those things too, but he didn’t take care of his mental health, either. He would have been a proud grandfather. He would have continued to be a proud father, my brothers are only 14 and 16 and still have so many milestones to pass. He would have given his shirt off his back, literally, for any family member or friend in need. But he didn’t take care of himself as much as he took care of everyone else, and the only person who could have changed that was him.

I didn’t have it in me to get up and speak at my father’s funeral and I regret that. I don’t think I could have held it together, but I wish I would have tried. And I get to add that to the laundry list of regrets I have. I wish I would have called more, said ‘I love you’ more, made it clear how proud of him I am, let go of more of the baggage I held onto, the things that kept us from having a more open relationship. I wish I would have let Randy the man have a cleaner slate than Randy the dad and not held him to such a high standard. We all are, after all, just human. I wish I would have told him about how much it meant to me, the day we went to take my driver’s test, when we wandered around suburban Minneapolis, going from one garage sale to the next, seeking out treasures and enjoying our uncommon afternoon alone together. Or when I was 8 and we flew my kite off of the back deck of our house in the middle of the night and it went up so high it shimmered like a star. Or when I brought Jim over for the first time to meet him and he gave him his wide, thin-lipped smile and head-nod of approval, coupled with a firm handshake.

I have to deal with the things I never said, wish I did and would love to take back. We all do, in our own ways, with our own people. But things like this don’t have to happen in our lives, to the people we love. Please, take a minute to think of someone you might consider forgiving, reaching out to, letting come back into the fold. DO IT. You never know if the chance will come again. And if someone you know is wasting away, not taking care of themselves, setting themselves up for diabetes, cancer, has an untreated illness, let them know how much you love them and how much dimmer your life would be without them. Hindsight is always 20/20, as they say. But if we could just look a little further into the future, make a little change, better ourselves, how many fewer regrets would we have?

Thanks for reading.


39 Comments so far
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I’m truly sorry to hear about your loss.

I lost my dad almost 9 years ago. While I can’t tell you the pain goes away, it does get better. The thing that helps me the most, and continues to help me today is to remember that part of him is living on in me today. And I carry that with me, wherever I go.

Just take it one bit at a time :)

Take care.

Comment by cherios May 21, 2007 @ 1:08 am

My sincere sympathies to you on the loss of your father. Your post was a beautiful memorial to him…I almost feel like I knew and would have really liked him. After reading this, I feel like finding my kids and giving them a bog hug. I’ll be thinking of you, take care.

Comment by Tracy May 21, 2007 @ 3:41 am

I very sorry to hear about the loss of your Dad. I’m shocked at how well you have coped…I know how incredibly busy you have been over the past while. As hard as it is, you seem to have given yourself some time to reflect…on all the good and bad. That’s got to be a step in the healing direction. My condolences dear.

Comment by Megan the Vegan May 21, 2007 @ 6:59 am

I am deeply sorry about the loss of your father. What sad news written so beautifully, Thank you so much for sharing. I lost a friend recently to suicide and I also wish I had said more in that last conversation with her. Please know that there is someone, clear across the country, who is thinking of you. Take care.

Comment by Sarah May 21, 2007 @ 7:49 am

I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m sending all of my best thoughts your way in this difficult time. May you find peace in your heart…

Comment by tofurkish May 21, 2007 @ 9:14 am

(((Kris)))

I always read your blog (I have it listed in my GoogleReader), but I rarely comment (I might have once before) but I wanted to tell you that I hear your beautiful words about your dad and I agree wholeheartedly about your sentiments on people taking better care of themselves. My younger sister thinks I’m a nag because I try to get her to eat whole grains and more vegetables, but really it’s just that I want her to be the best that she is, I want her to lead a long and healthy life and not develop diabetes like both of our parents. I encourage my entire family to eat better, less processed foods out of love not bossy-ness :) Thanks for sharing your story. You’ll continue to be in my thoughts. I hope that you heal well and take the best of your father with you into your daily life.

namaste,
Auntie X

Comment by Auntie X May 21, 2007 @ 9:34 am

Hey lady, you are right on about so much… Bettering ourselves betters everyone and everything in turn.

It’s hard having regrets, but it’s wonderful to hear of all the good things you are remembering that your dad did with his life and with you. You should keep telling these stories… it’s nice that you decided to share.

PS. All that food you told me about on the phone “looks” really good! I’d even try the seitan hee hee…

Comment by Leslie May 21, 2007 @ 10:59 am

I am so sorry about your Dad. I had almost an identical experience about 3 years ago with my brother. It was so hard for so long, but time has made the sadness a little bit better. Also, that is great that you are remembering all of the good times.

Thanks for sharing and I wish you the best.

~Julie

Comment by Julie May 21, 2007 @ 2:29 pm

Kris, I am so sorry for your loss. My thoughts are with you.

Julie

Comment by Julie Hasson May 21, 2007 @ 9:01 pm

Sorry to hear about your father…your comments are very thought provoking, honest and come from your heart!

I’m sure dad was and still is very proud of you…my thoughts are with you during this time.

Comment by Mel May 21, 2007 @ 9:11 pm

I’m truly sorry to hear about this. i consider you my friend and as your friend im here for you!

Comment by Johanna May 22, 2007 @ 8:18 am

hugs and hugs and more hugs. :[

Comment by Celine May 22, 2007 @ 11:44 am

I’m so sorry, Kris. What a difficult time you’ve been having for the last few weeks. All of us internet friends are here for you and it’s absolutely appropriate to post what you did on your blog today. You write so beautifully, and have made me reflect about my relationship with my dad. I really heard echoes in your line about the man vs. the dad, and wiping the slate clean, in my own life. Lots to think about… thanks for this.

Comment by bazu May 22, 2007 @ 1:02 pm

I’m so sorry for your loss, Kris. The way you wrote about him was very touching.

Comment by Laura Faye May 22, 2007 @ 6:29 pm

These words about your dad are really touching. I send my sympathies and lots of hugs to you. I’m really glad that you decided to share about this on your blog. I think that writing things down is really helpful and sharing this story will hopefully be supportive for you as well as inspiring others to cherish life and their loved ones more fully. I can say I know what it feels like to lose someone unexpectedly and be filled with “why didn’t I…” thoughts. With time sometimes I forget, but reading this helped me to remember that the importance of life is people. Thank you for sharing this, and I hope that you are have a great week!

-Teresa

Comment by Teresa May 23, 2007 @ 10:03 am

What a touching post. My condolences on the passing of your father.

Comment by Erica Sebald May 23, 2007 @ 2:31 pm

Kris,
I’m so sorry for your loss. You have my deepest sympathy.

Comment by Rachel May 23, 2007 @ 9:37 pm

Kris – I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine how difficult a situation this is. Thank you for sharing and for your beautiful words about your father.

I worry about my parents’ health as well. My father is obese and has developed type 2 diabetes. My mother works constantly, doesn’t sleep enough, is overweight, and has high blood pressure and cholesterol. There is only so much encouraging you can do, people have to see the light and make the change in themselves.

Take care of yourself. *hugs*

Comment by Shananigans May 24, 2007 @ 7:46 am

i am so sorry for your loss. i hope time will help to comfort and console you and your family.

Comment by nikki May 24, 2007 @ 4:49 pm

That was a beautiful, inspiring, empowering post and I want to thank you for sharing yourself with us. I am so sorry for your loss.

Comment by Freedom May 24, 2007 @ 6:25 pm

I’m so very very sorry for your loss.

Comment by kari May 25, 2007 @ 4:18 am

I’m sitting here crying after reading your post. I am very sorry for the loss of your Dad. He sounds like a fine man who struggled with some terrible demons. I’m sure he knew how much you loved him. Keep talking about him and keep his memory alive. May he finally rest in peace.
(((Hugs to you)))

Comment by Carrie May 25, 2007 @ 7:53 am

Kris, I know this was difficult to write about but your sincerity and honesty in such a tragic time is heart-warming. I offer you my deepest sympathies and I hope that your heart is on the path to healing. Life is too short to have regrets my dear friend. Please don’t beat yourself up for the should haves.

Comment by Vivacious Vegan May 25, 2007 @ 8:15 pm

{{{Kris}}} Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Don’t hold onto those regrets too long, they can eat you up. Unfortunately, we can’t turn back the clock (I also couldn’t bring myself to speak). If I had that ability, there are many things I know I’d do differently.

Love and hugs,
~~Tammy

Comment by Tammy May 26, 2007 @ 10:25 am

Oh, Kris, I’m so sorry you’ve lost your dad. You can take comfort that he is in peace finally. I am glad to know that you have those wonderful memories of him and I hope you will let go of your regrets very soon. I appreciate you sharing this and your beautiful words surely touched people in need.

- Diann

Comment by atxvegn May 26, 2007 @ 5:44 pm

I am very sorry about your Dad. I can tell you that when someone commits suicide, it is not because they don’t love their family. It is because they get into a state of mind where they are so depressed and, most importantly, they have convinced themselves that the depressed feeling will last the rest of their lives. Ever since a friend passed away this way I have tried to keep an eye out, espec. among younger people who don’t have enough life experience to realize that time heals, for this in anyone. But, I was taken totally by surprise by my friend’s suicide.

Comment by janet May 27, 2007 @ 4:42 am

p.s. I will add this unrelated note. I have not been in here in awhile because I have been dealing with a health issue that has turned out after various misdiagnoses to be a B-12 deficiency. I had thought I was not at risk for this, since I am a vegetarian, not a vegan. So, all the more reason to suggest to people that they periodically have their B-12 measured, perhaps at annual physicals, since it takes several years to drawn down B-12 from a good level to a bad one. I have deficiency symptoms even though I am still in the low end of the normal range. B-12 deficiency is a nasty thing, as the damage it has done cannot necessarily be reversed.I am lucky that I don’t have worse symptoms, but I may be walking around with a burning feeling in my mouth for the rest of my days. Not a bad idea to check for other vitamin and mineral deficiencies as well. Even omnis can get this, particularly people taking meds for acid reflux or the elderly.

Comment by janet May 27, 2007 @ 4:48 am

hey, kris.
i echo everyone else when i say sorry to hear about your dad.
my thoughts are with you.

Comment by karla May 27, 2007 @ 2:56 pm

I am so sorry for your loss… I think you did your father, Randy proud here.. in his memory…

Comment by melody May 27, 2007 @ 6:08 pm

Kris, I’m so sorry for your loss. You’ve written a beautiful memorial to your father here, and I hope you can take some comfort in knowing that you’ve touched and helped others by what you’ve written.

Comment by SusanV May 30, 2007 @ 6:30 am

I am so sorry to hear about your Dad. Please take care of yourself and know that you are in my thoughts.

Comment by scottishvegan May 30, 2007 @ 10:41 am

I am so sorry for your loss. I truly feel in my heart that those who pass know in their hearts the love and memories we have with them. I also believe that they are always with us. Go ahead and share you memories with your dad, he hears them and from what you said I am sure he had a deep love for you. He will always be in your heart.

Comment by Sheree May 30, 2007 @ 11:34 am

Kris, I am very sorry to hear about this… Your memorial of him is so touching and beautiful, and I thank you for having the courage to share. And I am glad that you felt like you could trust us with this… I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

Comment by laura jesser May 31, 2007 @ 10:48 am

Very sorry to hear about the loss of your father. Your post was a very good reminder to cherish each moment with those that you love. You will be in my thoughts during this difficult time.

Comment by Vegan_Noodle May 31, 2007 @ 2:25 pm

Kris,
Your lovely post actually brought me to tears… it’s such a tender testimony to your father and how much you loved him. I’ll be thinking of you.
amey

Comment by amey June 3, 2007 @ 9:39 am

*hugs* I am sorry for your loss. Your story is so inspiring, yet sad. I, for one, will do everything I can to make sure I do all I can do while given the chance. Thank you for sharing your personal story, and know that it has helped so many as a reminder that you never know how long you’ve got with the people you love.
Thank you, and I’ll be thinking of you.

Comment by candi June 3, 2007 @ 8:51 pm

Hey honey, Dylan brought your blog to my attention. I am absolutely SPEECHLESS. You haven’t talked much about dad’s death(to me) and I agree with your loving internet friends. Your dad did and still loves you very much and I’m sure he is extremely proud of you. And thank you for your beautiful words….it means alot to me and is helping with the healing process, for all of us. THANK YOU!!
I love you very much!

Comment by Mom June 7, 2007 @ 9:58 pm

Hi Kris,
This is the first time I’m reading your blog (having stumbled this way after a glowing review from Bazu at Where’s the Revolution) and I know I’ve stepped in the room at a very personal and emotional moment, but rather than slink away, I wanted to offer my empathy and commend your bravery and wisdom in seeking to share the emotional weight of this sad loss. It’s a strange serendipity–I just wrote last night about loss in my own food blog and wondered, “is this the right place for these thoughts?” I think that food blogging, especially veg blogging, is bizarrely intimate, even when it doesn’t expressly seems so. We share something really important about what we believe, the labor that we do, the way we share, how we care–all that with food. It seems to me then that this is the perfect place to share and connect with others over all elements of your life.
Sending you my best, Emilie.

Comment by emilie June 13, 2007 @ 7:21 am

so much love to you.
in sharing here you’ve truly touched me and i am inspired to heed your advice with those i love.
your father was lucky to have you in his life, and just from the tone of this post, just from the vibe you share with us all here, i’m certain he knew he was loved.
thank you so much for sharing your beautiful perspective so eloquently here.

Comment by DGMGV June 18, 2007 @ 8:13 pm

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