Lila ~ May 10

 

But she still found ways to make the most of life.  She was very outgoing. She was on the cross-country running team.  She’d go for long hikes, jogs and bike rides throughout Wiccopee and the Hudson Highlands.  She’d even find lakes to swim in way back in the mountains, and a few times, we even went skinny dipping. 

We’d get together sometimes and do fun things together.  One day, we wanted to bake a German Chocolate cake.  But Lauren didn’t have any cake pans in her house.  She only had pie pans.  So we baked the cakes in pie pans and stacked the slanted cakes on top of each other and slathered caramel icing and shaved coconut on top, while the cake cleaved in 3 different directions.  Together we consumed the gloppy mess.  

Another time, we feasted on bruschetta with tomatoes and basil out of her backyard garden, with Fresh mozzarella and loaf of fresh Italian bread from the grocery store.  I’d never eaten something so tasty.  My mother never cooked that at home, and wouldn’t let me dig up the yard either. 

One day, she gave me a massive zucchini that she had grown in her garden, and a recipe for the most delicious zucchini chocolate cake.  “You can add as much chocolate as you want!” she said.  

It was late summer, nearing the start of senior year.  The county fair was going on.  Mom and I were going to go to the Fair that evening.  But she had to go out somewhere for the afternoon, and would be back in a few hours.  She expected me to be ready when she got back. 

Now I had my chance.  I was free to bake the cake, free to experiment without mom getting upset about me messing up the kitchen! 

I cut the zucchini in half lengthwise and I scooped out the seeds and grated 3 cups of zucchini. I mixed up the dry ingredients, then the wet, making sure I measured everything out correctly.  Then mixed the two together, and watched them swirl into a rich, dark batter. And I splattered generous helpings of zucchini and cake batter all over the countertop.  It felt good to have my own space, to self-activate, and self assert and figure out this process on my own. 

Once the cake was in the oven, I cleaned everything up.  I thoroughly wiped down the countertops and washed all the dishes and put everything back in its place.  The cake was out of the oven and cooling off right as mom walked in the door.  

Although everything was clean and put back in its place, she still objected. “Lila, we’re supposed to go out!  How could you get into such a big project?” 

Later, she apologized.  “You know, Lila, I overreacted.  You looked so happy making that cake.” 

Sometimes, we’d go to Cold Spring with our friend Sarah Diaz and look at the Mominia bead store, admire the menu at Catherine’s Tuscan Cuisine, and eat at the Foundry.  

She also took me on my first hike up Breakneck, before all the new trailheads were put in. I’d never been on such a satisfying hike, and felt that deep tiredness in my body for days afterward.  

On one of her adventures back into the woods, she met a middle-aged woman named L. who lived back there with her significant other.  They became close friends. She took Lauren under her wing, and became like a mother to her, and helped her to find her way in the world.  

L. eventually moved to Michigan, and some years later, Lauren moved out there, too.  We lost touch in our college years.  She saw me slipping into mental illness, and she saw me slipping into increased religiosity, and becoming prudish and moralistic about sex. That’s when she left me behind and never looked back.  I don’t blame her.  I wouldn’t have wanted to be friends with me either back then.  She found her own life and her own way and her own happiness.