Then There Was The Fruitcake


Preface by Becky Nunn

This is one of my favorite posts from the Nunn Design archives, originally posted January 2015.

Dawn Sagar was the warehouse manager when she wrote this story about celebrating the life and traditions of her mother.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

– Becky


Then There Was The Fruitcake. by Dawn Sagar

My mother was one of those people who loved fruitcake. Every Christmas she’d gather the ingredients, enlist her daughters’ reluctant help, and bake up a batch of fruitcakes to share with the neighbors. The kitchen was full of spicy sugary smells as copious amounts of nuts, spices, and the weirdly Technicolor “fruit” that makes a fruitcake were beaten into the batter, poured into little tins, and baked to share with the neighbors. I don’t know what fate awaited those she gave away, but the cake she kept for herself was stored lovingly in the fridge, wrapped in cheesecloth, doused in bourbon.

Mom didn’t have much of a sweet tooth so a small fruitcake kept her in business for a year or more. Every now and then, be it a wintery, windy day in February or a hot, bright day in July, she’d get up and say, “I need a little bit of fruitcake.” One bite would do and she was happy.

We lost Mom just over a year ago, unexpectedly. We coped with grief, trauma, and sorrow, planned a service, relished the love of friends and family, and lived through unexpectedly hilarious and terrifically sad moments. Once the service was over and everyone had gone home, we faced the reality of a large house full of accumulated family items going back over 40 years. My dad died some time ago, so the task of sorting and deciding fell on my sister and me. More sad moments and funny moments, and so many decisions to make we became exhausted. Neither my sister nor I live in the state where Mom did, and there were many trips back and forth for both of us.

The process of going through things after someone has died feels monumental at times. There were objects we were expecting would be difficult to deal with; the wedding dress, the family photo albums, the letters mom and dad wrote to one another when he was stationed in Viet Nam. Furniture, clothing, toys, collections, so many things to deal with.

Then there was the fruitcake.

It became a running joke between us as we each tried to pawn it off on the other. “You should take the fruitcake, Mom would want you to have it.” “No, no, she’d want it to live in your fridge, she told me that once.” My sister happened to be the one who made it back to Mom’s house after there had been a major power outage, and she had to throw out a lot of food from the fridge and freezers. She slyly kept the fruitcake for me. The cake made it into one of my boxes, and, several months later the box was placed on a moving truck and was shipped cross-country to me.

When I opened up the box, there was the fruitcake right on top. My laughter was immediately followed by the thought: “This is going to be scary.” I cautiously opened up the Tupperware expecting nothing short of a furry biohazard. There sat the fruitcake looking pristine, exactly as it had the day Mom baked it.

Never underestimate the power of sugar and alcohol when it comes to food preservation.

I’m the younger sister, and there was no way I was going to let my sis have the last word. Towards Christmas, inspiration struck. I started pulling bits and pieces from the cake, the crazy colored fruits (how do they get them that color, anyway?), pecans, and little bits of the cake itself. I began building tiny compositions of cake into pendants, trying several different ways to get the true luminosity to shine through, lovingly coating each piece in layers of 2-part resin. I begged the assistance of my boss, resin expert Becky Nunn. With her help, some chain and pendants, ear wires and other bits, the Fruitcake Collection (a.k.a. The Fruitcake That Will Never Die) was created.

My partner and I spent Christmas at my sister and brother-in-law’s house this year. When we opened presents, I saved the fruitcake jewelry until last. As my sister opened up the box, the look on her face was priceless. Incredulity, hilarity, and a mischievous look that said all too well “this is not over yet.”

When you lose someone there are things you expect and many you do not. The everyday items, the glasses left on the nightstand, the toothbrush, the fruitcake in the back of the fridge, remind you most of them, that are the most difficult to deal with. I’m blessed that our parents raised two daughters who love each other. The family objects really are just things, nothing compared to love and family.

Fruitcake jewelry, though? Now that’s an heirloom.

– Dawn Sagar / www.dsagarart.com


Happy Holidays to all of you! May you experience love, connection and beauty wherever you may be.

Becky


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5 thoughts on “Then There Was The Fruitcake

  1. Tracey says:

    Absolutely touched my heart – my sister and I used to be that close, and I love this story because it renews my faith that even the deepest rifts in sibling relationships can be mended. Thanks so much for sharing this story.

  2. Paula Mastroianni says:

    Lovely story, Dawn…and the fruitcake line is really kind of pretty. You may be on to something…food findings!
    If you ever leave the jewelry field you have a future as a writer. Very engaging and well done!

  3. Heather Martin says:

    The day this post came out, my grandpa had been gone for exactly 2 weeks that day. Every single word in what you wrote was and is what I am still going through.
    Thank you for sharing your experience with us and inspiration for jewelry design.

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