Earlier this week, dad J and I started talking at the same time.
Me: “Did you eat that extra taco in the fridge?”DAD:”Do you know what time I go…”
M: “What time you go where?”
I’ve been replaying this conversation, whenever I’ve needed a good head shake, over the week. It gets better the more I remember it. My head has been shaking and shaking.
It hasn’t been a terrible week, or a week I can take personally. Obviously not. There were tacos. But have you ever felt that things come in waves, that days or weeks can sometimes seem themed? This week, the entire east coast was terrorized by the ubiquitous Sandy. And, though far removed from destitution, a few of my sweetest and closest friends have been dealing with their own painful blows. Deaths in the family. Falls. Soaking parades.
I won’t pretend I’ve acutely absorbed these pains. The truth is, everyone hurts sometimes. Or, we take turns hurting, if we can. But it is a heavy feeling, to see sadness in people you love so much. It is easy and tempting to try and take it from them. However, best wait for their return from their deep selves. And, if at all possible, make soup.
I did not take a picture of it today, but today’s soup was a hearty corn chowder. There were leeks, garlic cloves, bell peppers, corn and amaranth, and the reactions were warm and positive. Is there such a thing as feeding people for a living? I stupidly asked myself this, before recalling my favorite celebrity chefs. But I mean it, it felt so nice. Soup! A spiritual hug!
The feeling is akin to dropping candy in the baskets of costumed children. A happy exchange. So many this year! But I’m afraid there was one participant who did not share this enthusiasm, whose inner tropical storm raged and raged.
I’d like to note that, contrary to my scream-laughs when this outfit was purchased, I did feel very, very bad for this.