Leaving on a Jet Plane

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Do you know that song by Peter, Paul and Mary, "Leaving on a Jet Plane"? It dates me (popular in the 60's) and wings through my brain as I think about the departure of my eldest for college. In her month home we had talked about nearly everything we needed to talk about. It was time enough, but still hard to see her go.

I never imagined when my children were young that I would feel this way. They've become so much a part of me.

I wanted to send with her something of myself and our past together. So on Monday I made cinnamon bread. During her preschool and elementary school years we used to make two loaves of cinnamon bread twice a month.

Jenny would get out the milk and pour it in the Pyrex cup until it reached the red line I had pointed out to her. Then she'd pour it into the pot on the stove to heat up with the butter. When she was seven, I copied in big letters the list of ingredients so that she could independently read and measure out the right portions of sugar, flour and yeast.

In Japan we couldn't buy cinnamon bread, so we treasured our loaves made at home. Toasted, with butter melting on it, homemade cinnamon bread is the best comfort food around. It's better than homemade pie. Sweet, but wholesome. Filling, but light. And the smell when it cooks or toasts affords double delight. On Monday when I made cinnamon bread for Jenny, she reinforced by efforts by eating three thick slices.

In Japan we couldn't buy granola either, so we made our own. On two of my three by five stained recipe cards are scribbled two versions: a health and nut lover's granola with eight ingredients and on the second card a recipe for when I'm in a hurry. Just oats, honey, oil and raisins. We usually made the simple version in Japan because of the cost of ingredients uncommon in Japanese diet like nuts.

As a grade schooler Jenny loved making granola. She'd stand on a stool and stir the tan colored oat flakes with a big spoon until all were coated with honey and oil.

I sent Jenny back to New York with a quart-size bag full of an even more complicated recipe for granola, acquired from a trip I made with Jenny. At the B&B in Santa Fe at the time she checked out St. John's college, they had a white four poster bed and luscious breakfast with the best granola ever.

Jenny now abstains from meat that comes from animals treated inhumanely. Only free-range chickens or cows can serve as her food. In the last month I've shopped at many stores to find the right foods and tried out new recipes, like Turkish stuffed zucchini, with feta and swiss cheese.

When Jenny contemplated leaving California for college, I cheered her on. I didn't even think of the consequences to myself -- like not being able to drive up and see her when I missed her badly or she sounded distraught on the phone. I didn't anticipate that she wouldn't want to come home for her second Thanksgiving, but I understand well why she didn't.

Perhaps because I wish my desires for adventure had been blessed and supported by my parents I encouraged her to go to school far away. I attended a college only a two hour drive away.

Jenny's first year away was really tough for me at times. But I do believe Kahil Gibran's words: "If you love something set it free. If it returns to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was."

Comments

[Janine]

What a great tradition that you made with your girls! I love that you did that while she was home from college, what great memories you have made together! I am sure that even if she doesn't treasure them now, when she is older and has children of her own, she will treasure these memories, and these times spent with you! And maybe (hopefully), she will pass on the tradition to her little ones! Have a great week!