By Megan went back to school on Monday. She put on her teacher face — the one that smiles and listens and never lets the kids see behind the curtain — and she walked into her classroom and taught twenty-two nine-year-olds and came home and collapsed on the couch and I caught her.
We still haven't told anyone. The secret that was joy is now a secret that is grief, and the privacy that protected our hope now protects our pain. Nobody asks how we are because nobody knows there's something to ask about. We walk through the world looking normal. We are not normal. We are two people carrying an absence.
I called in to work on Wednesday and drove to the cemetery. Not Danny's grave — though I stopped there too, briefly, out of habit, out of need. I went to Babcia's grave. I haven't been there in a while. I sat on the cold ground and I told Babcia about the baby. About the heartbeat. About the silence. I told her I don't understand why. I told her I'm angry and sad and scared. I told her I don't know how to help Megan. I told her I don't know how to help myself.
The cemetery was quiet. The wind blew. I sat there until my hands were numb and then I drove home and Megan was on the couch and I made tea — chamomile, the teacher's cure-all — and I sat next to her and she put her head on my shoulder and we watched TV without seeing it and the tea got cold and the evening got dark and we survived another day. Surviving is all we're doing right now. It's enough. It has to be enough.
I’ve been making chamomile tea by rote, the same bag in the same mug, because it’s what Megan needs and it’s something I can actually do. But the night I came home from Babcia’s grave with numb hands and nothing left to say, I wanted to make something that took a little more effort — something that forced my hands to work and my mind to slow down. Babcia used to say that food made slowly was love made visible, and pistachio milk is exactly that: a small, quiet act of care you can offer when words are impossible. I made it warm that night, and we held our mugs, and it was enough.
Pistachio Milk
Prep Time: 10 min (plus 4–8 hours soaking) | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 4–8 hours 10 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 cup raw, unsalted pistachios (shelled)
- 4 cups filtered water, plus more for soaking
- 2 Medjool dates, pitted (or 1 tablespoon maple syrup)
- 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
- Optional: 1 pinch cardamom or cinnamon for warmth
Instructions
- Soak the pistachios. Place shelled pistachios in a bowl and cover with cool water by at least 2 inches. Let soak for 4 to 8 hours, or overnight. Soaking softens the nuts and makes the milk creamier and easier to blend.
- Drain and rinse. After soaking, drain the pistachios through a fine-mesh strainer and rinse well under cold water. This removes any bitterness from the skins.
- Blend. Add the drained pistachios, 4 cups of fresh filtered water, the pitted dates (or maple syrup), vanilla extract, and sea salt to a high-speed blender. If using, add the pinch of cardamom or cinnamon. Blend on high for 60 to 90 seconds until very smooth and creamy.
- Strain. Pour the blended mixture through a nut milk bag, fine-mesh cheesecloth, or a very fine strainer set over a large bowl or pitcher. Squeeze or press gently to extract all the liquid. Discard or compost the pulp.
- Taste and adjust. Taste the milk and add a touch more sweetener, vanilla, or salt as needed. For a warm cup, gently heat on the stovetop over low heat — do not boil. Stir slowly and pour into your favorite mug.
- Store. Transfer to a sealed glass jar or bottle and refrigerate for up to 4 days. Shake well before each use as natural separation will occur.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 180 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 80mg