DH's grandfather passed away on Dec 27th. We're sad to lose him, but he was 92 and had enjoyed a very full life and good health right up until the end. His family is very big and very close, and they all seem to be handling it well.

We went back to Ohio for the services, and after we got back from the interrement there was a luncheon put on by the "ladies of the church."

I got to thinking about this nameless, faceless band of ladies that has always inhabited every church I've ever spent any time in. They put on the Easter breakfast, they ran the kitchen for my wedding reception, and they put out a lovely spread for grandpa.

Maybe it's just the good Midwestern girl in me, but there's just nothing that soothes the soul quite like a table full of casseroles and the big urn full of coffee.

I know it's very Prairie Home Companion, but little ham sandwiches on dinner rolls, macaroni beef, that hotdish with the potatoes and cheese, corn casseroles, and jello as far as the eye can see really does heal. It's warm and comforting and makes me feel connected to something bigger than myself--years of church basements and good-hearted people sending love with a breadcrumb topping.

So, to all the church ladies out there, with their appliqued sweatshirts and labeled Tupperware, I want you to know that you are appreciated. When it's my turn, I'll be proud to join your ranks. I make a mean macaroni & cheese.