Favorite food from your childhood. Mine is Shit on a Shingle/ or Chipped beef on toast. Mom used to make it all the time growing up. When her cancer started getting more advanced and she opted for easier things she discovered this frozen option and we often shared it over toast.
I was grumbling the other night about the various reasons my kids and people in general were on my nerves as Kevin and I were laying in bed. And BOOM, like a tidal wave it hit me. I wasn’t mad at anyone, I was missing my mom terribly and just attacking other relationships for lame reasons.
After a few tears I got it together and talked about mom for a bit. I talked about how nice it is having Ethan staying with us during the holidays. Please don’t ever tell someone in the midst of grief that it’ll get better or it just takes time. That isn’t true. It feels the same today as it did almost nine years ago.
Mom was the funniest person I’ve ever known. She taught me sarcasm. She also taught me to accept my mistakes and to stand up and take my consequences. And finally, she taught me to love through the fiercest struggles and storms and always without condition.
I’ve never known another person like that until I met Kevin. My god she would have loved him and threatened to disown me if I screwed up the relationship. She was known for liking our friends and significant others more than us. 😆😆
Clearly, this is about much more than a box of chipped beef. This is about having the original and when life throws you a curve, finding a stand in. For mom it was stouffers and it stands in just like the original, but still misses the mark in that home cooked way.
Kevin came into my life when I needed the support of someone who really understands me and supports my crazy in times that are difficult and hard to keep moving. He’s not my mom, I mean, that would be weird. But holy cats, he sure does meet the mark when I need support in ways that few others realize.
Take time to reminisce today. Open your mind and Harare to those you’ve lost or those you’ve not seen in a long time. What memories do you have that bring a visceral response? How are those memories carried into your life now?
Thank you for being a part of this journey and continuing to come back and see what I should have known from the beginning: that it happens for a reason and always in its own season.