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| Eggs & 'tetchup |
I once had the best wife in the universe, who just happened to be one studly hunk of a man. An unbiased opinion, that, I swear. Mitch was of the "Wash, Clean, Cook? YES!" mentality that I still cannot quite understand. Happy to appreciate these skills, in my confusion, make no mistake, I'm very grateful! Especially considering Wash, Clean, Cook were happily joined by Play and Change Diapers ♥
When he fell undeniably ill, mid-October, there was no denying a shift of responsibilities was inevitable. I wasn't ready for imminent, inevitable was fine.
Mitch's mother came to visit for Thanksgiving. I prepared by asking, pleading, begging, admonishing and threatening Mitch to remain still and docile, for a few weeks, to allow his bruises to heal. We knew they came from his Lumbering About Adventures, including walls, doorways and floors; she did not. Already, he was a scary sight post-stroke, I'll admit, and I was there every day to watch the rapidlyslow decline of his body. She was in for the shock of her life, I wanted to soften it as much as I could, with whatever energy I could muster. (FYI - he didn't listen)
Mitch's mother came to visit for Thanksgiving. I prepared by asking, pleading, begging, admonishing and threatening Mitch to remain still and docile, for a few weeks, to allow his bruises to heal. We knew they came from his Lumbering About Adventures, including walls, doorways and floors; she did not. Already, he was a scary sight post-stroke, I'll admit, and I was there every day to watch the rapidlyslow decline of his body. She was in for the shock of her life, I wanted to soften it as much as I could, with whatever energy I could muster. (FYI - he didn't listen)
I'm honored that food was her only issue with his care. Mostly I remember she made him oatmeal, his childhood favorite, like when he was 8. Mitch really liked it with steamed milk and thank the heavens Mitch's mother was there to provide this peek at someone who'd been a stranger for almost 25 years of my life and my husband for merely 5. These peeks were numbered, sacred and running out at alarming speed. I make oatmeal with water, he made it with water, she found comfort in providing the milk ♥
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| Oh look! Eggs & 'tetchup |
My kids liked Eggs & 'tetchup because their dad made it for them whenever they asked. They liked Cheese Toast because Daddy told them the very best cheese comes wrapped in individual slices & tastes great slapped on dry toast.
It was two days later when I offered the kids breakfast and they ran to Mitch's dresser. Puzzled, I followed and observed as they opened his sock drawer, I helped them rifle around until we found the (unbeknownst to me) mega-stash of Everlasting Gobstoppers. Apparently, the breakfast of other champions named Jenner. Daily part of the lounging-in-bed-before-actually-getting-up routine. Probably followed by a trip to the kitchen with real food, before the family shower at 11:30 am.
A part of the day that was theirs alone with Dad; with routines and rhythms and scents and sounds so different than my own; different even than when I am present. I was suddenly extra sad for them, for this intimacy they'd lost and perhaps never remember. And I stopped. They'd been given the gift of a father, for the briefest of moments, who was their playmate, their champion, their sun & moon. Perhaps not to be a memory for the brain at all, but a memory designed for one's heart and soul.
And that memory is moving towards making it all worthwhile ♥
