Happy Super Bowl Sunday!
It’s a bit odd for a Patriots fan to not be rooting for our team today but there is some familiarity…with Tom Brady at the charge. However, I’m solely in it for the food this year.
Food, yet again, is the star of the show on Super Bowl Sunday. So many holidays are really based around food and traditions with food, and to me the super bowl is no different.
At 95% of my family gatherings you can expect to see what we know and love to be, Kathy’s Mexican Dip. This is why this started as a recipe, but is ending/turning into a tribute to my late aunt Kathy.
I could just end it there and tell you the three ingredients and 25 minute cook time steps for this crowd pleaser and get on with this Sunday but Kathy deserves more than a sentence.
So, here we are. Kathy – my late aunt. Still feels odd to say that when I stop and think. It’s been six years, as of two days ago, without our sweet Katie. We lost Kathy in her sleep at the age of 66. Kathy experienced a brain hemorrhage in her early 20’s while at nursing school in NH (and consequently many other medical emergencies/procedures throughout her life). Following her hemorrhage, Kathy had to relearn just about everything. From walking to talking to eating, etc. Kathy, lived the next 40 years (without feeling on the right side of her body, teaching herself to become a lefty post hemorrhage) persevering and right by the side of her family, whom she adored.
We lost Kathy in the midst of losing my aunt Tricia. This is something worth noting, because I think it made the shock of it that much greater. No one in our family expected to lose Kathy when we did (sure, she had some medical issues – but it was Kathy, she faced each challenge thrown her way with a smile on her face and strong Irish spirit).
Of course, no one expected to lose Tricia shortly after, the following August in 2016 (after a courageous battle with cancer). But in my family, like many others, we are transparent (as I discussed earlier) amongst many other things. Tricia, fought stage four cancer with that same Irish spirit that Kathy possessed, for four years. She stared in the faces of many doctors telling her a timeline that she had no room for and let them know she had other plans (like winning the club championship while wearing a chemopack, see below). And what she accomplished in those four years, was miraculous (that’s a whole separate post or website in its own).
What I’m saying is, we knew. We knew that one day, in the not so distant (or as distant as we’d all wish) we’d be saying goodbye to Tricia. It would be a lie to say it wasn’t on everyone’s radar. Most importantly, Tricia’s. She was the very one walking around shouting YOLO at every chance she got. Or her daughter (and best friend) who went all out (with the help of her brother and sister in law) and threw Tricia the absolute best 65th birthday the year before we said goodbye.
Still it was far too early. 65th should have never been the last occasion marked for Tricia here with all of us, but it was. And I know it was marked in exactly the way she wanted. Having that unique ability to know that your time is ticking might have extremely limited silver linings but I always think that was one. We knew to go all out with Tricia and so did she.
When the time came and Tricia knew the end was near, we all had the chance to come together, once again as a family and surround her with love during her final days. Never in a million years, would any of us had thought that Kathy would no longer be here with us during those final days and moments.
We didn’t have that same sense of urgency with Kathy. I use the word urgency because, in a way, it felt like that with Tricia’s diagnosis. Let’s squeeze as much into these days as we possibly can. As mentioned, Tricia did that – and more. I personally will admit, I spent more time with Tricia than I did in those last four years, than I likely did in the rest of my life (and we see each other a lot in my family, well pre covid).
Luckily, Kathy had her own timeline. She squeezed so much into those 66 years. She ordered more puppies online than anyone else I know, in those 66 years. That was a shoutout to any of my family reading this. I thought a bit of humor would help right about now. But oh Kathy, where to begin! I wanted to make sure I did Kathy justice when I shared her recipe here on the blog.
One of the things I remember loving most about Kathy was her spirit. If there was something Kathy wanted to do or learn or try (even just once), she’d do it. My cousins and I could go on and on about all the things Kathy did or wanted to try out in her time here. My brother Brady and cousin Taylor love to tell the tale of their trip to NYC with Kathy for a Who Wants To Be A Millionaire tryout (for Brady lol).
Sure, we didn’t feel the urgency with Kathy. But when your days are already spent connecting with family and friends you tend to get the most out of life regardless of the volume on your ticking clock. Kathy, did just that. She never married or had children of her own. Instead, she chose to spend her years living independently at times, living with my Nana whom she loyally looked after for years after my Baba passed away, and then eventually living back with her first best friend, my wonderful aunt Judy (our Cadden family matriarch!).
Kathy never missed a beat. She checked in with my mom (her little sister) every single day. They’d check in on each other. That’s what family does. But Kathy was a riot. At times those check ins became 5x a day. Or they became sweet emails or texts. I had the privilege of spending some of the evenings towards the end of Kathy’s life on the phone with her (on speaker) in the living room of my apartment. She’d entertain my friend (roommate at the time) Sarah and I with her stories. She’d let us know about her recipe book that she was writing (which my aunt Judy has shared with us) and how proud she was.
Those are just some of my final memories with Kathy. It’d be impossible to sum up what Kathy means to me (I think Kathy means something so special to just about every single person that knew her) in one little post here. I think of Kathy every single day. I think of her when my mom does something quirky that reminds me of Kathy. I think of Kathy when we have a family dance parties (boy did she love to dance, seen below with Casey and Tom at J/K’s wedding!). I think of Kathy when I cook. I think of Kathy when I go to the beach or am by the beach (no one loved the beach more than Kathy and my Nana). I think of Kathy when I think of my aunt Judy, now living alone, in a pandemic. Her best friend should still be here, living with her – right by her side where she belongs.
Kathy, spent just about every chance she had with her family. She’d come spend time in Duxbury with my family and I. As a young kid that meant all four of us kids flocking to her the second she walked in the door. Kathy thrived on chaos. My aunts would show up with treats galore and energy to match it. When I got a bit older, it meant, coming to Duxbury to spend a week or two with my parents and I (and whichever brothers were home at the time), to “give my nana a break”. Breaks, were at times needed, when Kathy had a bit of a harder time and they were wise for all.
When we lost Kathy, my aunt Judy (who saves everything, yet another skill she taught me), gave my mom the greatest gift. She sent my mom a few journal entries Kathy wrote. Kathy was encouraged to write when she had difficulty, by her therapist (from what I understand). These pages from those days spent in Duxbury were filled with the sweetest entries. If you knew Kathy and you know my parents you’d know two things. One, my mom adored Kathy. When you ask my mom about Kathy she almost always starts off with “awwwww kathy”. Kathy stood a few inches below my mom, making for the cutest photos. Two, Kathy had a “crush” on my Dad. We’d always tease her. It was a family joke. She, as well as we, cherished those days in Duxbury together.
Kathy would write about the movies we’d watch together. Or going to lunch with “Mary and her friends”. Or simple nights at home eating dinner. Or a highlight, visiting Brady at Brown. Reading those pages was a reminder of just that. Sometimes the highlights, or the times worth writing about, are the simple nights at home with family.
Kathy may have not known just how limited her time was but she did always have a sense of life after life here on earth. I’ve witnessed multiple family members take their last breathe surrounded by family and each and every one of them was welcomed by loved ones. We saw it right in front of our very eyes. Call it what it is and take from it what you find comfort in.
I take comfort in knowing that, Kathy, along with the rest of my family are together. Likely crowding around their own dip and fighting over the next bite. Kathy used to talk about what life in heaven would be like in her eyes. Heaven is a strong word for some, but for Kathy it meant a chance to run free and be free of her physical handicap. Kathy talked, not too long before passing, about how she wanted to run through a field once she made it. I picture Kathy doing just that and boy does it make me smile.
Still, it’s easy to get frustrated with the thought of losing Kathy so soon. And Kathy wasn’t the first sibling they’d lose. My mom and her siblings had to bury their brother (my mom’s best friend) at the ripe age of 7. They lost my uncle Kevin, to hystocytosis X. My spirituality is limited, but ever since the time in high school when a medium told my mom that her buddy Kevin sat in the blue chair in the corner of my room watching out for us, I’ve felt more connected to him. In 2009, we lost my godfather, my uncle Tom at the age 58. Our very own Atticus Finch and adoring father of four. My uncle Tom was an extremely successful lawyer and one of the only things he ever lost was his battle against his demons. I think of him with a smile each time I see his picture on my bookshelf. Both of these, yet again, deserve their own posts, which I hope to write.
Back to the dip (I should have out the recipe at the beginning so you could read this while it bakes – note to self). This became known as Kathy’s Mexican dip, because she’d be in charge of bringing it for every family holiday or gathering. Like most families, we all chip in and bring a side or an app, etc. when we get together. And this was Kathy’s. If you ask me, it was the first to go each time. Everyone would crowd around it, dipping chip after chip and often leaving a trail of cheese between their mouth and the scalding hot dip (that I burn my mouth on every single time).
Kathy was always proud to contribute. Three ingredients, plus the bag of chips. She’d make her list and then likely ask my nana if she needed anything else from the store. To make the dip it’s a simple three steps. Open a pack of cream cheese and spread it on the bottom of a glass pie dish or anything else you might use for dips. Crack open a jar of salsa and cover the cream cheese (usually the entire jar or a bit less). Lastly, spread some mexican cheese on the top (a hefty layer) and then pop it in the oven and bake at 350 for 20 minutes or till bubbly.
The worst part, as I hinted at, was waiting. Waiting for it to cool down. It would typically come out first at Thanksgiving. Usually right around the time that my cousins and I were starting to get rowdy or looking for something to do. My uncle might have had the game on the tv at my aunts and a clear view to the screen. But the second the dip came out, it was all bets off. The screen was no longer a guaranteed view because we’d all crowd around the dip. I remember trying to get all of my aunts and my parents little side plates with some dip on it so that they got a couple of bites before we went to town and crushed the whole thing.
I’d trade pretty much anything to be fighting over the last bit of dip (burnt mouth and all) surrounded by family, gearing up for the Super Bowl tonight (Patriots or not) but for now I’ll sit here, and enjoy one of those days/nights Kathy so cherished. A simple night at home with my parents and Lu (oh dogs…Kathy loved dogs, Lucy included).