Loved Ones are Committed to Connecting with Each Other
Dayton, Ohio – Six years ago, I heeded the desperate call for help made by my mother,
Rosemary Peters Brame. As such, the now weekly sharing of dinner, has become wonderfully
“typical” for us.
While I praise this occasion as nourishment for the soul, the origin of this sharing stems from
when “Mommy”, then a 78-year-old entrepreneur and systems analyst, requested assistance
from my twin brother, Kerry, and me. Her energy and time had been consumed with taking
care of “Abu”. Formally known as Dr. Margaret E. Peters, her older sister was an 82-year-old
retired educator and historian. My aunt’s aging had brought on several health challenges. It
was impossible for her to live alone so Mommy moved Abu into her home.
At that time, I was a 48-year-old consultant and educator whose schedule mirrored the
sentiment of the African-American saying, “Chicken, one day; next day, feathers.” Despite
professional times of uncertainty, I developed a set routine for an entertaining gathering.
Scheduled to occur in my mother’s Cape Cod home on Thursday nights, it would enhance our
familial bonds. I would be responsible for creating the meal and selecting activity options while
Mommy would often bake dessert.
For an evening meal this past September, I made Ragout and Polenta, Spicy Red Pepper
Pickled Asparagus and Garlic Bread. For dessert, my mother presented her famous Bacardi
Rum Pound Cake. On these occasions, I never tell her the main course because I enjoy
surprising her. When she removed the tops from my cassis Le Creuset pots that night, Mommy
exclaimed, “Oh, Ragout and Polenta … you know that’s my favorite dish that you make!”
Tomato-based, my Ragout is wonderfully thick, with chunks of carrots, celery, chuck roast and
onions. Freshly-ground garlic, various seasonings and a dry red wine round out this French
stew. The Italian Polenta owes its richness to heavy whipping cream, butter, chicken broth and
cheeses, such as Asiago and BellaVitano.
A good family friend and former restaurateur, Guy Johnston1, joins us for dinner
and this is the first time in a while that he has visited my mother. Released from prison one year
earlier after serving a sentence for white collar crimes, he heartily embraces Mommy. Their
reunion, filled with deep hugs, is heartwarming. Because of the high regard he holds for her,
especially in her home, Guy asks my mother if he could say Grace. Honored, she gives her
permission, and Guy delivers a prayer that is beautifully reverent.
Heads bowed, hands held with one another, he expressed his extreme gratitude for hospitality in
being able to share a meal with us and for grace in forgiveness and mercy. Guy ended with joy,
sharing in affirmation that we are protected and loved by Him. Mommy, smiling, held his hand
tighter, praising, “GOD is good!”
The lively dinner conversation topics range from books recently read and international politics
to the best slow-burning cigars and the local arts scene. In discussing an upcoming event at the
Benjamin and Marian Schuster Performing Arts Center, Guy stops talking mid-sentence and
pauses for a brief period of time. As my mother and I look at him quizzically, a huge smile
spreads across his face and his eyes, teary from reminiscing, shine brightly. Guy raves, “This is
the best meal I have had since I have been out … the food, the company and connection … I love
y’all!”
Also featured in our weekly dining events are viewing of films, such as Agatha Christie’s
Evil Under the Sun and Death on the Nile as well as television series like BBC’s The Great
British Bake-Off , Midsomer Murder and Death in Paradise. Colombo became especially
beloved by Abu, who suffering from Alzheimer’s disease and dementia, passed away in 2022.
In tribute to her, we viewed the episode, “Swan Song”, starring Peter Falk and guests, entertainer
Johnny Cash and Ida Lupino. While eating the decadent cake and drinking Kahawa 1893
Kenyan coffee, we sing, “I Saw the Light”, along with “The Man in Black”.
We are Graced, indeed.
- Guy Johnston is a pseudonym. ↩︎