Rebecca Wolfe 10/5/09

This morning as I sat on the El waiting for my arrival into Chicago my mother called from Texas (she has been there for Becky's final weeks) in tears. Becky was unresponsive. The rest of the day passed in a haze. I sat at my cube aimlessly checking e-mail. My eyes felt like they were melting off my face. Every time my phone rang my stomach dropped, that was it. But it wasn't. By 3pm my father and I had made contact and he had informed me that Becky had no pulse but that her heart was beating double time. It's fitting that the last thing to go on this wonderful woman was her heart. I cancelled my dinner plans and arranged for the rest of my family to meet in Oak Park.

As we sat down at Friday's and ordered our drinks we talked of how strange the day's events had been. When our drinks came my father proposed a toast to Becky. As we lifted our glasses a thought passed over me, I felt it, part of me knew it was over at that moment. My father felt it too and a minute later my mother called. Becky had passed as we were toasting her. It's like she knew that we needed each other and that we were finally all together. She was surrounded by those she loved, practically the entire town was there at her bedside.

Prior to my mother's phone call I had planned to write Becky today telling her of the Onion Soup. I feel like it was more than a coincidence that the beginning of my culinary adventure happened at the very end of her life. I just wish she knew that the first dish went well, I know she would have enjoyed hearing about the evening.

I'll be leaving soon, traveling down to Texas for my final goodbye. Upon my return I plan to make the dish that started it all, the Gratinée Dauphinois.

I'll end with my favorite quote:

"Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt"

-Kurt Vonnegut