Memorial Day. The cemetery. Erik and I went — just us, without Paul (the wheelchair can't navigate the cemetery paths, which are gravel and uneven, and the nurse in me calculated the risk and the answer was no).
We stood at Pappa's grave and Lars's grave and I cleaned the headstones and replaced the Swedish flags and Erik stood beside me and said nothing and the nothing contained everything it always contains: the loss, the love, the years, the silence.
Lars would be sixty this year. Sixty. The birthday he'll never have. Pappa has been gone eighteen years. The headstones are grayer. The grass is greener. The cemetery is beautiful in May — the lilacs are blooming along the fence and the smell is so sweet it hurts.
I told Lars about Paul. Standing at his headstone, in the May sunshine, with Erik beside me, I talked to my dead brother about my dying husband. I said: "Lars, Paul has ALS. He's in a wheelchair. He can't talk. He can't feed himself. But he's still Paul. He still knows every ship on the lake. He still makes me laugh. He's still the man I married." Erik didn't comment. He let me talk. He let the cemetery hold the words.
Afterward, we went to Mamma's. She'd made coffee and vetebröd — the cardamom bread, warm from the oven. We sat at her table — me, Erik, Mamma — the three of us who are left from the original five plus Pappa, and we drank coffee and ate bread and didn't talk about the cemetery or Lars or Paul or any of the things that were sitting in the room with us.
I made a Memorial Day dinner at home: hot dogs. Not Swedish. Not elegant. Not anything except the most American food on the most American holiday. I grilled them on the back deck while Paul sat in his wheelchair on the porch and watched and I cut one into tiny pieces and put it in a small bowl and he ate the pieces with his thickened ketchup (everything is thickened now — liquids, sauces, condiments) and the hot dog was a hot dog and it was Memorial Day and we were alive.
Paul typed: "Remember the picnic at Leif Erikson Park?" I said, "Which one? We went every year." He typed: "All of them. Remember all of them." The machine said it. I said, "I do."
All of them. The deviled eggs and the potato salad and the ham sandwiches and the blanket on the grass and the lake below and the sky above and Paul identifying ships and Sven chasing sticks and the children small and then big and then gone and then visiting and the years piling up like the flags on the graves.
I remember all of them. Every single one.
We always brought macaroni salad to Leif Erikson Park — every year, every picnic, right there on the blanket beside the deviled eggs and the ham sandwiches while Paul named ships on the lake. I made it again this Memorial Day, even though we ate on the porch instead of the grass, even though the blanket stayed folded in the closet. Some things you make not because the occasion is the same, but because the making of them is how you remember that it was.
Easy Macaroni Salad
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min (plus chilling) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 2 cups elbow macaroni, uncooked
- 1 cup mayonnaise
- 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
- 1 tablespoon yellow mustard
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 cup celery, finely diced (about 2 stalks)
- 1/2 cup red bell pepper, finely diced
- 1/3 cup red onion, finely diced
- 2 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and chopped
- 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped (optional)
Instructions
- Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add elbow macaroni and cook according to package directions until just tender, about 8–9 minutes. Drain, rinse under cold water to stop cooking, and let cool completely.
- Make the dressing. In a large bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, white wine vinegar, mustard, sugar, salt, and black pepper until smooth and well combined.
- Combine. Add the cooled macaroni to the dressing and stir to coat evenly. Fold in the celery, red bell pepper, red onion, and chopped hard-boiled eggs.
- Taste and adjust. Taste the salad and adjust seasoning — add a pinch more salt, a splash more vinegar, or a touch more sugar as needed to balance the flavors.
- Chill. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving to let the flavors come together. The salad thickens as it sits; stir before serving and add a spoonful of mayonnaise if needed to loosen.
- Serve. Transfer to a serving bowl, garnish with fresh parsley if desired, and serve cold. This salad keeps well in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 280 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 310mg
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 165 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.