Grief and Gallo
Blogging Hiatus.
February 11. I am beginning to believe I can survive anything. It's been 40 hours since my baby left this world, and I'm still breathing. Raggedly. But breathing.
Not that survival is the name of the game. LIVING is the point. And I will live. I've had some time to try on the fact of Brandyn's mortality, and God has blessed me -- the universe has blessed me -- with someone who could hold me through this. I never thought anyone could, because I did not think anyone would UNDERSTAND my feelings for my spunky, harrumphing kitty. It took a person who was foolish or courageous enough to open her heart to a 20-year-old cat, a person who could both see and accept the bond I had with my little girl.
Have. I still feel Brandyn and realize I always will. Twenty years marks the longest intimate, unbroken relationship of my life, and now I see that it will be ongoing. That I will continue to commune with my baby girl, that I hold her within me. When I considered just what wine would be worthy to toast her life, I realized there were none. I toasted Brandyn's life and death with no wine at all.
It's days later and I'm still reeling. I'm in that weird purgatory place, neither where I was nor where I will be. Who I was or who I will be. . .
I will still be a wine lover, this I know. HOORAY for, of all places, HyVee Liquors at 75th and State Line Road -- not the grocery, but the wine store across the street. There I found -- or rather there the resident wine freak found -- me -- perusing the Zins. Lo and behold, he too was a Zin fan. He turned me on to a closeout, the Barrelli Creek Vineyard 1998 Zin. He bought up all he could find, and claims he cleaned out St. Louis in the process. I grabbed one, and took it to Kimmy Sue's, where we polished it off before our dinner. (Which was our own adapted recipe, kickass Chilean seabass, basted in white wine and lemon, and encrusted with pine nuts. We knocked it back with the 2001 Simi Cab, which is always good, but not, IMO, as tasty and full as the Barrelli Creek Zin.)
The good news: I love this wine. It's yummalicious smooth, warm and hearty, but not overpowering, with a delectable finish.
The bad news: It ain't available, even at $21. Also, one has to overlook/forgive the fact that it originates with Gallo Sonoma.
I did grab three bottles off the near-empty HyVee shelf a few days later. One is intended for my big sister Karen. Like me, she tends toward Cabs. But we seem to have similar palates, and I can't imagine her and Bill not loving this concoction. I like to get her wines she can't always find for herself.
The Barrelli Creek Zin tastes of black cherries and boysensberry jam, according to its label. Which also tells us that it's aged about a year in oak -- but for me, the real kicker, the main reason this wine makes my mouth so happy, is that it's not a "pure" red zin, but is blended with 20 percent Petite Syrah. I LOVE Petite Syrahs!
Funny that I can still love the taste of good wine when my heart is clenching and my eyes blurring with the pain of missing Brandyn. Some nights the bed screams out her absence, and I can't sleep, even with my plump, fat boy kitty gargoyles purring on opposite corners. But last night, I finally saw my baby in my dreams. I was hoping she would have plumped up on the astral plane, but I guess that will take some time -- for me. Brandyn has all the time in the world.
February 11. I am beginning to believe I can survive anything. It's been 40 hours since my baby left this world, and I'm still breathing. Raggedly. But breathing.
Not that survival is the name of the game. LIVING is the point. And I will live. I've had some time to try on the fact of Brandyn's mortality, and God has blessed me -- the universe has blessed me -- with someone who could hold me through this. I never thought anyone could, because I did not think anyone would UNDERSTAND my feelings for my spunky, harrumphing kitty. It took a person who was foolish or courageous enough to open her heart to a 20-year-old cat, a person who could both see and accept the bond I had with my little girl.
Have. I still feel Brandyn and realize I always will. Twenty years marks the longest intimate, unbroken relationship of my life, and now I see that it will be ongoing. That I will continue to commune with my baby girl, that I hold her within me. When I considered just what wine would be worthy to toast her life, I realized there were none. I toasted Brandyn's life and death with no wine at all.
It's days later and I'm still reeling. I'm in that weird purgatory place, neither where I was nor where I will be. Who I was or who I will be. . .
I will still be a wine lover, this I know. HOORAY for, of all places, HyVee Liquors at 75th and State Line Road -- not the grocery, but the wine store across the street. There I found -- or rather there the resident wine freak found -- me -- perusing the Zins. Lo and behold, he too was a Zin fan. He turned me on to a closeout, the Barrelli Creek Vineyard 1998 Zin. He bought up all he could find, and claims he cleaned out St. Louis in the process. I grabbed one, and took it to Kimmy Sue's, where we polished it off before our dinner. (Which was our own adapted recipe, kickass Chilean seabass, basted in white wine and lemon, and encrusted with pine nuts. We knocked it back with the 2001 Simi Cab, which is always good, but not, IMO, as tasty and full as the Barrelli Creek Zin.)
The good news: I love this wine. It's yummalicious smooth, warm and hearty, but not overpowering, with a delectable finish.
The bad news: It ain't available, even at $21. Also, one has to overlook/forgive the fact that it originates with Gallo Sonoma.
I did grab three bottles off the near-empty HyVee shelf a few days later. One is intended for my big sister Karen. Like me, she tends toward Cabs. But we seem to have similar palates, and I can't imagine her and Bill not loving this concoction. I like to get her wines she can't always find for herself.
The Barrelli Creek Zin tastes of black cherries and boysensberry jam, according to its label. Which also tells us that it's aged about a year in oak -- but for me, the real kicker, the main reason this wine makes my mouth so happy, is that it's not a "pure" red zin, but is blended with 20 percent Petite Syrah. I LOVE Petite Syrahs!
Funny that I can still love the taste of good wine when my heart is clenching and my eyes blurring with the pain of missing Brandyn. Some nights the bed screams out her absence, and I can't sleep, even with my plump, fat boy kitty gargoyles purring on opposite corners. But last night, I finally saw my baby in my dreams. I was hoping she would have plumped up on the astral plane, but I guess that will take some time -- for me. Brandyn has all the time in the world.
posted by Winetaster | 7:48 AM
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