Stories matter.

Telling stories. Writing stories. Sharing.

Except we are known for a quirk or two in our family. Sometimes we might be deep into the story in our minds, and we forget to go back to the beginning. Starting in the middle is not always good for the listener who has to catch up.

Memories.

As I drove back from my sister’s Celebration of Life, I tried to name my favorite story. At that time I settled on a driving story.

A Wedding Cake Story

It was the hottest day of the summer. Dad was in the hospital. The eldest grandson was getting married. And the three sisters were going to be in charge of the wedding cake. The mother of the groom and I showed up at the farm. Of course, Mom had already baked most of the cake. The last couple pans were in the oven. She couldn’t wait on us.

Have you ever wondered how the cakes look so perfectly flat and even? Well, sometimes they are “trimmed” to within an inch of their lives. Other times they are pushed into submission with wet towels wrapped around the outside of the pan to ensure a more “even” baking. But I digress.

Cakes baked.

Cakes trimmed.

Cakes frosted. That, in itself, is a process. Layer cakes are put together and then “thin coated” to hold in crumbs and/or cut edges before allowed to dry. Then a full coat of frosting. And again, a drying process.

Sheet cakes are frosted once. Marked into squares (nifty device made by grandpa), and then frosted and decorated.

All cakes kept cool in the basement. Rotated from table to top of freezer to cake rack to table to second table as the process continued until all cakes were frosted and deemed ready to go.

I made batch after batch of frosting. Gluing layer cakes together frosting is a bit thicker than outside of cake frosting. It’s a feeling – how the spatula drags across the cake. And then the frosting for roses is even stiffer yet.

Day two of the marathon. Packing up.

Layer cakes in cardboard box flats to grant them space to breathe while sheet cakes were in the rack.

We parked the van outside the basement door and carried the multiple forms of cake out to the van. Between the cakes and the wedding clothes, it was a full load.

I’m driving the van. As I recall, it was one of the few times I remember driving a van at that point in my life. And to have it loaded with such precious cargo. What a responsibility. Keep in mind that this was about twenty-five years ago. I had a bag phone at the time. It was resting on the console between us.

We were barely on the highway (2 3/4 miles) from home when we realized we had forgotten something. I asked my sister to call Mom and start a list of what we had forgotten in our rush to get packed up and on the road.

I was driving. and it was sister’s first experience with a bag phone. It had to be powered on. Then punch in the number, another button to connect the call, and then a long wait for the connection to go through. It took a couple of tries to get all the steps in . . . in the right order.

And then we went down in a dip – a river bridge maybe. And we lost the call. There was a recall or redial button, but you first had to turn off the initial call before redialing. I don’t remember what we forget to take with us, but I do remember that it took three or four tries to get the message through to Mom. And by then we were almost hysterical. Laughing. OMG. Almost, having to stop somewhere to go to the bathroom – wetting our pants laughing. (There were no Casey’s along the roadside yet either.)

“It shouldn’t be this hard. A phone should make life easier not make it so hard to connect.”

And then we would laugh again and again.

Technology in our hands and a wedding cake . . . just like oil and water. Not mixing well.

But the best part. Persistence paid off. Pat called everyone she knew while we were driving. We were on the road to the wedding and “Nothing would stop us now!”

Putting the cake together was almost anticlimactic. Everyone had an opinion and a kernel of advice. Brother trying to get nephews in trouble for putting fingers in frosting. Decorating by committee. “Should I put a rose here? or here?”

And then Mom showing up, and with a few squiggles of leaves here and there, the cake was pronounced DONE and it was on to the next task. Cake delivered and set up.

Huge sigh of relief!

_ _ _. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You might have seen this. I posted it on Facebook Saturday before the services.

“Today is going to be a long, hard day.

It’s also going to be a long, fun party.

Today, we are celebrating my sister.

Celebrating A Sister . . . Pat Greubel

How do I describe her?

Caring – for others and herself in her chosen profession, nursing.

Seeking green and purple – Her favorite colors in so many shades.

Conversationalist – It didn’t matter where Pat was, she talked to everyone!!!

Capable cook – ham balls, deviled eggs, potato salad, breakfast casserole, salsa – you name it, if she liked it, Pat found a recipe to make it. However, you might be surprised when grated carrots were added to a dish for just “a bit of color”.

Creative baker/cook – Decorated Winnie the Pooh cakes, Holly Hobby cakes, Barbie cakes, the colors of mints, and wedding cakes were all crafted with love.

Mother/Grandmother – Role model of and for her children and her grandchildren even if she might call them by the wrong name

Aunt – Who took a nephew shopping to find the perfect birthday clothes. On the hottest day of the summer, she had him trying on clothes in search of the perfect birthday present.

Knowledgeable – Long before there was “google”, there was Nurse Pat. “Do we leave this uncovered? OR cover with an antibiotic and a band-aid? Pat was quick to share her wisdom.

Traveler – Cruise, plane, car; the mode didn’t matter, Pat was always ready to go somewhere.

Date and Number Rememberer – Pat could rattle off the birthdays, and October was her favorite month. So many celebrations.

A quilter – Pat loved following through with a pattern to create magic with fabric.

A decorator – Every holiday needed recognition, but Christmas was always her favorite. The tree, its trimmings, and all the lights mattered as did the Christmas quilt on the couch!!!

A reader – books everywhere and every time of the day. Pat loved to read and was grateful for friends who supplied her with books.

A craftswoman – Ceramics, cross stitch, counted cross stitch, barn paintings, beads, and other craft ideas that caught her eye. Pat tried them all.

Helpful Neighbor – Would be the first to offer help in times of trouble or celebrations of good news.

Queen of Laughter – Had this laugh that would make you laugh as well.

Someone you could count on for love and support, but not too early in the day because she “used to work the night shift” and did have her own “Greubel time” for arrivals. Never claiming to be perfect, my sister was devastated when she lost her middle son in a car accident. It was a rough patch for all, because all three of the kids, as well as the seven grandchildren have many of the same loving, caring, fun-loving, supportive characteristics of their mother.

It’s hard to say goodbye; best to say until we meet again!”

Until we meet again.

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