It was nice having our young friends over yesterday. It took me a while to “know what I was doing,” but I managed to get a decent meal together in the end.
I’ve always had a great connection with food. I’ve always loved everything about it; shopping for it, cooking it eating it and nurturing, nourishing others with my cooking.
But ever since Andrew died, I have not been able to indulge in that pleasure.
Don’t get me wrong, we do eat every day. But I am often overwhelmed by having to work out what to cook, and whatever I put on the table these days, is usually quite simple.
I am only too glad when I don’t have to cook, and all too often I have turned a blind eye to Robert eating junk food in town with his friends on Fridays and often on Saturdays too. It would never have happened before, I am nuts about nutrition. At one point in fact, I wanted to start a food revolution.
But I get tired so quickly these days, and not only that, there isn’t one thing even amongst food ingredients that doesn’t remind me of Andrew. Chopping an onion reminds me of Andrew struggling with watery eyes when helping me cook sometime. He liked cooking and he was always willing to help in the kitchen when asked. Chop an onion, slice a cucumber, stir the risotto, make a chocolate souffle, whip cream for mummy who loves the stuff…
Anyway, everybody enjoyed my cooking yesterday.
On and off I felt Andrew’s presence, I cried and smiled in turn. I burned my left arm in the oven and had to spend the rest of the day holding ice pads against it. Thankfully, at some point last night my arm stopped hurting and I was able to sleep.
Today we have enough left over vegetables and gravy from yesterday that all I’ll have to do to make dinner, is add some protein.
A friend just called inviting me to lunch to celebrate her daughter’s doctorate. That’ll be nice, and from now until then, I am just going to rest.