55 Comments

I like to read this every time. And one day I will make the potatoes. 💜

Also - look at your curls, omg!

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omg indeed!

❤️

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I have made the potatoes. And it's true; they're perfect just the way the recipe is written.

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Thank you for the reinforcement on this key topic! 👍🏻

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I’m not sure I’d want to eat one now but I did like a tinned spud when I was younger. My nana had them in the larder in case of emergencies I think. Time for a resurgence perhaps!

Lovely writing as always.

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They may change and recharge your life!

Also, my grandmother Maude was also Nana. It's like we're related, you and I!

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I remember (from Twitter) reading this when she died. My mom had been gone almost exactly one year, at the time. It's a beautiful piece. Also, your mom was quite a looker, Benjamin! I didn't notice in all the (hairy) pictures of you from your youth how much you favor her. But you do. I probably won't make those (canned) potatoes but I'm pretty sure I've eaten them. All the LI Jewish ladies must have gotten their recipes from the same source!

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Didn't Beyoncé have a hit single with "All the LI Jewish Ladies"?

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Ha! I'd love for you to share the lyrics!

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Your mother was absolutely beautiful – obviously in more ways than one. How fortunate you both were to have her love and she yours. My husband loves canned potatoes, I don’t. But I may just try these. Her memory will always be a blessing. Be well.

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May her memory always be a blessing (and may I one day write as beautifully of grief).

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Just discovered your writing thanks to Connie Schultz on Facebook. What a beautiful piece. My mother Anne is gone just three months now - I’d like to think she put your essay in my path. First-withouts, indeed. The emptiness is measured in them.

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Well, we do love Connie, don’t we.

I can add this, not as an instruction, of course, but merely an observation:

Once the full year passed—to the day, that is—I truly had a moment of “OK, that’s it, that’s the year.” And something in me did indeed lighten. Of course I’ve continued to think of my mother, a lot, these last three years, but: I breathe more easily now.

I offer my condolences to you on the death of your mother, and I hope that all goes well with you.

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Very grateful for your note & looking forward to reading more of your work!

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Thank you for sharing. I remember reading the original on twitter and being touched. Reading this again brought those feelings back. Loved seeing the pictures! There is definitely a resemblance between you and your mother.

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Thank you for reading it again! Yes, the resemblance between my mother and me was always—always—remarked upon.

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I had the inverse reaction to your mother’s when, after having read your book, my wife and I listened to the audiobook version on a road trip. Your speaking voice was identical to the voice that had been in my head while I was reading. I thought, “he sounds exactly like he writes”.

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Ha, ha, yes, that inverse is one of my favorite things: that I'd be doing an event, and someone would come up to me afterward and say "You sound just like the book." Thank you for being a two-format reader!

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A lovely remembrance. Thanks for (re)sharing it. My mother left us in 2011. She was an excellent gift-giver, thoughtful and creative, and an adventurous cook. But she also had a lifetime struggle with serious depression, and that was a hard thing for a kid to handle. After she passed, I also encountered her in dreams. She was always her best self in those dreams, and I am grateful for that. Eventually, it felt like I needed to address the elephant in the dream and ask her if she knew she was dead. She did, and she was perfectly fine with it. The last time she appeared in a dream, she was wearing a bra and a slip and a big Dolly Parton wig. I don't know what she was in the middle of when I summoned her, and I don't want to know, but she seemed to be living her best (after)life. What else can you ask for?

Next time I make potatoes, I'm making these.

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Bless her a lot. You too.

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I love everything about this. Your descriptions of her, the recipe, the beautiful family photos. And of course grief, the writing subject that keeps on giving. We must be about the same age, my childhood photos are so similar-those lawn chairs! Thank you 🙏🏼

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I remember when you first wrote this piece. It's just a excellent now.

And I'll have to try the potatoes!

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Thank you for sharing this about your mom. I recently lost mine . ❤️🙏

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I'm so sorry, Laurie. It's a tough thing, I know. I offer my condolences to you and yours.

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Beautiful! Thank you!

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I have read and loved the remembrance of Mother Dreyer before. Familiar with potatoes in cans. My neighbor when our children were young grew up on a farm in Northern Kentucky. She would can what were called Irish potatoes. Why anyone would want rows of little potatoes in jars amazed me.

Of course she also bought McDonald’s hamburgers by the dozen and froze them. I hope they were plain.

Thank you for the photos. I remember at least one of your mother sitting by herself.

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Quite possibly, I’ll bet, the one I tend to refer to as “Diana Dreyer, Mob Wife.”

I’ll save that for another day.

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A lovely, poignant piece. Just passed the 26th anniversary of my mother's death. She shows up sometimes in dreams, but rarely speaks. Your mother was beautiful, as was mine, as were nearly all the women who were photographed in their era. Thanks for posting this essay.

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