September approaches. The school year started without Paul. For the first time in thirty-three years, East High School's American history classes are being taught by someone else. Paul watched the school buses pass the house on Tuesday morning and said, "They'll be fine without me." I said, "They'll be fine. But they won't be as good." He smiled. He knows. He knows what he gave them.
The reading stand is Paul's world now. Books are his travel, his work, his adventure. He reads six or seven hours a day. The stack beside his chair rotates — shipwrecks, biographies, novels, history. He reads about the Great Lakes, about Swedish immigration, about the Iron Range, about everything within his reach, which is narrowing physically but expanding intellectually. His body is getting smaller. His mind is getting bigger.
I help him with the pages now. His right hand still turns them, but slower, and sometimes the pages stick and the frustration shows — a tightening of his jaw, a sharp exhale — and I reach over and separate the pages and he says, "Thank you," and we continue. We continue.
The fall preserving has begun. I'm doing it alone this year — all the work that used to have Paul's hands in it. Applesauce from Honeycrisp apples: twelve pints. Pickled beets: eight jars. Green tomato relish: six jars. I work at the counter while Paul reads in his chair and Sven lies between us and the kitchen is productive and warm and full of steam and the smell of vinegar and apples.
Anna visited on Saturday with Sophie. They came for the day — four hours up, a few hours with us, four hours back. Sophie is starting her junior year. She's doing her clinical rotations in earnest now. She sat with Paul and showed him pictures from the hospital on her phone — she's careful about what she shows, choosing the happy moments, the bell-ringings, the patient victories — and Paul looked at each picture and asked questions and was interested because Paul is interested in everything.
Sophie helped me in the kitchen. We made applesauce together — peeling, coring, cooking, milling — and the work was rhythmic and companionable and for two hours we were just a grandmother and a granddaughter making applesauce on a Saturday in September, and the normality of it was a gift.
I made dinner for four: chicken and wild rice casserole. The Minnesota classic. The comfort food. The meal that requires cream of mushroom soup from a can and I have made peace with this and Mamma doesn't need to know. Sophie had three helpings. She eats like a nursing student, which is to say: whenever food is available, eat as much as possible, because the next meal is uncertain.
Anna hugged me at the door when they left. She said, "You're doing so well, Mom." I said, "I'm doing." She said, "That's enough." It is. Doing is enough.
This is the casserole I made that Saturday — the one Sophie had three helpings of, the one I’ve been making for decades because it is honest and filling and asks nothing complicated of you. It calls for cream of mushroom soup from a can, and I have long since made peace with that. When Anna and Sophie drove eight hours round-trip just to sit with us for an afternoon, this was what the table needed: something warm, something familiar, something that says you are home here without making a fuss about it.
Chicken A La King Casserole
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 3 cups cooked chicken, shredded or cubed
- 1 can (10.5 oz) cream of mushroom soup
- 1 can (10.5 oz) cream of chicken soup
- 1 cup sour cream
- 1/2 cup whole milk
- 1 cup frozen peas, thawed
- 1/2 cup diced pimentos or roasted red pepper
- 1/2 cup diced celery
- 1/4 cup diced yellow onion
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
- 2 cups cooked white or wild rice
- 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese, divided
- 1/2 cup crushed buttery crackers (such as Ritz), for topping
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
- Sauté the vegetables. In a skillet over medium heat, melt 1 tablespoon butter and cook the celery and onion for 4–5 minutes until softened. Remove from heat.
- Mix the filling. In a large bowl, stir together both cans of soup, sour cream, milk, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper until smooth. Fold in the cooked chicken, rice, peas, pimentos, sautéed vegetables, and 1/2 cup of the cheddar cheese.
- Fill the baking dish. Spread the mixture evenly into the prepared baking dish.
- Make the topping. In a small bowl, combine the crushed crackers with the melted butter and the remaining 1/2 cup cheddar cheese. Sprinkle evenly over the top of the casserole.
- Bake. Bake uncovered for 35–40 minutes, until the casserole is bubbling around the edges and the topping is golden brown.
- Rest and serve. Let the casserole rest for 5 minutes before serving. Serve directly from the dish.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 420 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 19g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 870mg
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 127 of Linda’s 30-year story
· Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.