Peanut Butter Pie + A Renewed Zest for Life

Last Friday, the seemingly endless food blog community collectively made Jennifer Perillo's recipe for peanut butter pie.  Nobody told us to do it.  Well, Jennifer suggested it, but we all acted of our own accord.  A few days after her husband, Mikey, passed unexpectedly, Jennie told us what we could do to help her.  Make Mikey's favorite pie in honor and remembrance of him.

So, as she and her nearest and dearest honored and remembered Mikey during his memorial service, we, her 'internet-friends' began to fill our kitchens and the world wide web with thousands of Mikey's favorite peanut butter pies.

Jennifer is right now experiencing something that I'm deathly afraid of.  If I had to pick my biggest fear, living without The Stallion is definitely it.

I mean, just look at that face.

 This girl would definitely miss him, too.  Her daddy is better at throwing the ball for catch than I.

I really took Jennie's request to heart.  It was a great one, a courageous one, and one that would not only be meaningful to her, but to everyone who participated.  It's a simple concept, yet one that takes purpose and intention, and therefore gets neglected from time to time.

The premise of her ask was this:  take the time to tell someone how much you love them.  After all, tomorrow is no guarantee.

I think it left us all (well, at least me) a bit conflicted.  I'm always at a loss when it comes to consoling someone.  And here I am, cherishing this moment with my family while we make this pie together, all because Jennie will no longer have that luxury.

I sure hope this outpouring of peanut butter pies is comforting her as was intended, and not acting as a total sucker punch every time she sees a new link pop up in her twitter feed.  I hope she sees the light of love in each post, knowing that she created that moment for all of us.

This moment with the whole family in the kitchen, making peanut butter pie, and just enjoying one another.  Reconnecting.  Relishing the moment with one another.  Bringing together two of the world's most complimentary loves:  peanut butter and chocolate.

This next part I debated heavily over sharing with you.  In the end, I decided that since I snapped the photo, I obviously felt it was part of the story in the moment.  And in the interest of being real and transparent, here is The Stallion, working, during our peanut butter pie making time.

Oh, the irony.

Jennie's story really hit home for me because she talked about the few weeks leading up to Mikey's departure from this world, which included a whole lot of working.  On some big project.  For 9 days straight.  The Stallion does that on occasion, and even if his work week is a regular 5 days, those 5 days are packed with stress and work and stress and work.  It creates a really a vicious cycle.  Work is stressful, so a cocktail (or 2 or 3) takes the edge off.

Naturally, I get a little bent out of shape when it comes to The Stallion taking care of himself.  If we have to accept the stress and alcohol as a trade-off for him providing for us, then there had better be a nutritional diet, regular exercise, and very limited vices.

You just never know.  There are people that smoke a pack a day for 50 years and live a long, joyous life just fine.  And then there are people who are taken entirely too early with no real medical reason.

I dare say we err on the safe side.

I made the rest of the pie on my own, slightly disappointed that this day I had been picturing in my head all week was not going as I had intended (which had been something like this).  Being pretty emotional (although let me share my dry-eyed wedding pictures alongside The Stallion's tear-filled ones and you'd wonder), coupled with the fact that I'm an active part of this food blogging community and The Stallion is just on the periphery, it's clear that this whole thing affected me more than him.

You see, The Stallion is about as laid back as they come.  He just wants to enjoy the life he's been given, for as long as he gets to.

I, on the other hand, have seen The Notebook, cried for hours after the first time watching it, and happen to think there is no more beautiful thing than a love that is so powerful it can take two people away together.

I need to lighten up.  I need to take a bit more of The Stallion's approach to life.  I don't have control over it, and when our time is up, it's up.

If I spend the next 60 years plotting a conjoined passing, I'm 99.9% likely to be disappointed, and I'll miss out on everything that's right in front of me.

Scrumptious peanut butter pie being one of them.