Everybody needs a Naomi.
My Naomi is the mama of 2 of my dear friends. Her home is overflowing with flowering plants, enough canned goods to outlast an apocalypse, crafty imaginative projects, and sage wisdom you can take to the bank and cash. For a woman affected by the cruel grip of arthritis, her hands are never still. Most importantly, she loves me and my kid like we're hers.
This was Stella's dessert tonight. From the same batch of applesauce that was given to me when we came home from the hospital. Standing in the kitchen, shaky and throbbing, I took a bite of this applesauce that I'd gently warmed in the microwave and had to grab the counter to not pass out from the smooth fresh delicious serum. It was the best medicine for my torn apart crotch and weary guts.
I'd felt the kindness and warmth of Naomi's love before and since, but the half dozen jars of applesauce that kept my hunger from overtaking me in those first few hazy days of being home with a newborn will always represent her best. Little jars of love.
PS - for S's and G's, here is Stella's first encounter with applesauce. Not as rhapsodical as mine...