Life...

Home Cooked Meals

That’s the thing…

I keep telling myself that I’m going to cook today. Every day. I say the same thing.

This weekend I had a taste for some mac and cheese. I’m working to perfect this recipe that an old friend of mine used to make that changed the game for me on how mac and cheese should be made. When I say working, I mean, I tried to make it at least 5 times since the time I first had it 8 years ago, but whatever, work is work…

So today, having the taste for mac and cheese, but not really feeling like getting the resources to make it, I decided to make a Dorito casserole instead. I suppose, making mac and cheese would’ve required the same energy, but I would’ve wanted meat with my mac and cheese, and then naturally, a vegetable, so the Dorito casserole (one of my favorite dishes that my mom makes), won the toss up. At lunch, I went to the local grocery store, got the ingredients and was ready to make a cocktail and create a meal when I got home later that day.

But what had happened was… I remembered that my grandma cooked Easter dinner yesterday and since she lives close to my job, I figured it would be easier on everyone if I went to her house to pick up a plate.

And it was. For so many reasons.

My dad, her only son, died last month, and naturally, she is taking it pretty hard. So hard, in fact, that she is riddled with anxiety and cries daily over the loss of her baby boy. This 75 year old gem, who is usually the pillar of her neighborhood, her family, and anyone within her reach, is hurting more deeply than she ever imagined… and yet, come Easter, and she is ready and overly willing to cook… for everybody… anybody… and whomever...

It’s only today that I find out that she went to the hospital on Saturday because arthritis made it hard for her to move, couldn’t walk, barely lift her legs, arms… and yet, come Sunday, she was moving and grooving and making her way around the kitchen as if running her own marathon of love or dancing the Holy Ghost dance to one of her gospel tunes. Simply amazing. The only medicine that really worked was ‘family’.

And here we are. Me, after a long Monday and desperately wanting to unclothe myself, cuddle up with my plate, and cozy up with my cool cocktail as I’m wrapped in my sheets…

But here we are instead, sitting in her kitchen…

talking, laughing, crying, praying, remembering, wishing, dying, living, saying, breathing, teasing, easing, heartache still relaying… timeless messages of forgiveness, love, joy, peace, regret, rain, pain, sunshine…

Here we are… sitting with each other, reliving old moments, healing past wounds… trying to make it ‘mo betta.

Adorn yourselves with items from the collecting your life collection and remind yourself, constantly and intentionally, to LIVE. :-)


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