Maman's Kitchen

Mornings with Maman were always a delight.

Inarguably a morning person, Maman would rise with the sun and the birds and patter her way into her one of her favorite spaces -- the kitchen.

Why the kitchen instead of the cozy living room or bright the sun room or the equally bright front porch or the back deck? Because inside the kitchen, Maman's creativity and mad genius for the culinary arts came to life. 

It could be any given day, any ordinary day but you'd find her by 7 a.m. or 8 a.m. wrists deep in fresh dough with her trusted mixer whipping while she played all of her favorite tunes like Wham! or Stevie Wonder or Jefferson Airplane or the Doobie Brothers. Sometimes, she'd have her favorite DVDs playing endless reruns of Rush Hour, Step Brothers or Elf. 

Either way, she'd step into that kitchen before the sun rose and wouldn't leave until she had happily exhausted herself.

By the time I or my siblings found her in the morning, she'd have every ingredient weighed, separated into smaller bowls, mixer whizzing and then she'd greet you with the brightest smile while she ran through the day's menu.

"Oh, well I woke up and felt like making..."

Muffins. A cake or three. So many pies. Cinnamon rolls. Sticky buns with raisins. Fresh breads that ranged from focaccia to brioche and beyond. Every variety of cookie known to man. 

A random recipe she saw on the news or that a good friend sent her on Instagram or TikTok. 

By this point, she'd be pointing to a carafe of freshly brewed coffee and singing along to her music while she went back to her baking. This was daily life with Maman.

It was her element before she got diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL). 

When the doctors finally diagnosed her in early July 2023 after she died on her birthday on June 20th and had to be resuscitated, Maman's biggest frustration with her cancer diagnosis was that it caused her to physically slow down. 

No longer could she rise easily in the mornings and head to the kitchen. The cancer found a way into her blood and ached her bones and joints like fiery stabbing pains she would say.

The mornings where she'd wake up and pull out every pot and pan were behind her. 

We'd never known her to sleep later than 7 a.m., but now she struggled to rise before 10 a.m. It frustrated her more than any other aspect of her illness, because Maman was known for her seemingly limitless energy. 

This type of cancer was one that puzzled her doctors in the early days. It first appeared in her body in March 2023, but it was misdiagnosed as diabetes. We refuted that diagnosis, but they sent her home anyways without an answer for all these sudden and mysterious symptoms. 

Aside from the sudden weight loss, inability to keep any food down, unusual fatigue -- it was the pain that most tried to diminish Maman.

She was more often than not bedridden -- agonized by what she likened to an unreal stabbing pain in every inch of her legs. No amount of over-the-counter or prescribed pain medicines helped to alleviate this pain.

My siblings and I watched as the woman who could not be stopped lost her ability to stand for more than mere seconds, because the ghost pains that medical professionals didn't understand stole her ability to move. 

Still, the force that she was even after her diagnosis and the beginning of her targeted chemotherapy process, Maman persisted. 

She found quicker recipes and enlisted her children to help even though she preferred and enjoyed doing all of the prep work herself. 

Eventually though, she began to experience extreme weakness in her legs and dizzy spells that led to fainting. 

It was no longer safe for her to stand in the kitchen on the tiled floors, but still that didn't stop her. 

If she couldn't bake or spend hours in the kitchen feeding every family member, friend, or community member that she came across, then she'd inspire others to do it. 

That's how it all began for me back in August 2023. 

"Ty-Lini, you should start making cookies for your friends!" This idea absolutely delighted her, because while I was rather reluctant at the beginning (since I thought my baking days had long ended), she encouraged me to be brave and just try. 

Maman was the force behind everything in my world. An inspiration unlike any other.

That was the absolute best thing about Maman. 

Her belief that if others simply tried and kept trying then eventually they could. 

It's one of the many things that I think we all miss most about her. Her unwavering belief in the goodness and ability of others to meet their own potential. That kind of meaningful positivity is needed in this world. 

Maman's mission to love others as she herself was loved will continue to live on.

ALL (acute lymphoblastic leukemia) took Maman before she took the world by storm, but her memory and her legacy persist. 

So long as others are inspired to experiment in the kitchen and so long as I can muster the courage to be half the baker that she was then I truly believe there are better days ahead. 

Don't let the kitchen intimidate you and if you ever swap in salt for sugar (as most of us bakers have done at least once), giggle about it and try again.

It's the Maman way and you'll feel all the better about it eventually.