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| Yep, homemade chicken pot pie is comfort food indeed xo |
I learned a big thing today, or maybe I was just reminded. I will tell you our little story and how it turns out, in case it might be a bit of an eye-opener for you, and helpful in some way.
My beloved son, who's recently moved to Maryland with his brilliant wife, who's finished her on-site education at Penn State so she can practice law in the U.S., spent a lovely year or so in town while she was in school. She already has her law degree and has been practicing for years in Argentina, but when lawyers trained outside the U.S. move here, they have to supplement their international education of course, and also pass the bar if they choose to practice full-out. So his wife is not only working full-time in a law firm in Maryland now, after securing her credentials yet again, but aiming to pass the New York bar in the next year, go Baby! She's aces, and will do well, I'm sure, though it's one heck of a LOT of work.
While they were here, we were able to have barbecues and visits and bring them chicken soup when they came down with covid. It was like water to a person coming out of the desert to be able to LOVE them with food and visits after their absence for so long in South America. I need my kids. I need their hugs. I need their love. And I need to actively LOVE them, which I do with these little things like food and visits and beeeautiful, tight hugs, not to mention the pure pleasure of looking into their eyes and seeing their smiles and hearing their stories.
So they've been out of state for a few weeks as they both settle into new jobs with bright futures. Yes, they're storing some stuff in our basement for a little while, so it's not truly an empty nest yet, lol. Though they're only a few hours away, we have two dogs and traveling overnight or for a few days to visit them is super expensive boarding our two pups, plus my hubby is still teaching at the University, retirement about a year away, so I'm saving up for a visit in the spring, which sometimes seems a very long time away, and very much looking forward to more visits as Maryland is a terrifically fun place with lots to do, plus from there you can visit D.C., where we have more family, and other fine cities with lots to do.
They had a friend's wedding in town scheduled for a few weeks away, and before they moved out of state, we said to each other, "We'll see you again next month," though I still cried a few tears at having them leave town. "Ciao, ciao!" I said, blowing kisses as they drove away, which we always did, but this was the last time they'd be so close, as they weren't headed to their home in town but their new one three hours away. All good. I am happy they're in the U.S. rather than 5,000 miles away, as they were for eleven years.
This afternoon I got this news from my Lovie, and I'm so neurotic, it sent me spinning (doesn't take much to do that these days!). I'm an emotional person, perhaps somewhat because I'm female, perhaps because I'm a mother, and perhaps because I'm a mother with a dead daughter. My lens on my worldview is forever altered because of that death. And sometimes I'm not aware of how narrow that lens can become. Thank goodness for small blessings and big hearts.
Welp, we (me going into happy mother mode) had planned lots of stuff even though it was a quick visit and they said, "Don't do anything special, we're easy guests." They planned to be here on Friday night, quick dinner, quick breakfast Saturday morning, wedding all day/evening Saturday, and back to their home in Maryland on Sunday. I was thrilled to get to see them. I generally just work in my studio a lot, but I went into total MOTHER mode, planning to wash floors with pine sol (just love that stuff) clean bathrooms, put flowers in the spare room where they'd stay, clear out all the "storage dump stuff" we'd allowed to pile up in that spare room, and make BBQ ribs for Torey Friday night (it's his favorite) and chicken for his wife and me (in case we might prefer those to the ribs), and I looked at 26 recipes for breakfast stuff they might like Saturday morning. The anticipation of a visit is half the fun, isn't it?!
Well the text message I got on my phone today, when we expected them to be here tomorrow, was that Torey's darling wife was suffering allergies and coughing a lot, and she was voice messaging to let us know that and ask if we were afraid of being exposed to something, though she tested negative for covid, and she suggested that perhaps they could stay somewhere else.
I looked at these events through my "worldview lens" and said to my husband, "They can't stay here. Of course they don't want to! They don't want to stay in the spare room because the last time they stayed there they slept with all the lights on because it was when they came home from Argentina to go with us to Portland to clean out Jessie's apartment (my dead daughter). I have some photos of Sweet Jess in there, and a couple of her very special things, and she stayed in that room when she was home "healing" for four months before she died (though she didn't die in that room) - so it seems to be a sort of "Jessie space," though it isn't a shrine. I have pics of the other kids too, and workout machines and stuff. Though even after I set it up I haven't been able to spend time in there because the first time I did try to spend time on my lovely treadmill I burst into tears remembering all the hugs with Sweet Jess when I tucked her in at night. Total meltdown. It was just too much pain to go in there knowing I could never hug her again or tuck her in or cook for her and stuff. That's my "lens." Still working on it....
So after I got the text message on my phone I started spinning out and my rather myopic, sensitive heart went places that generally, only I go, because of my history and experience. I felt dizzy, I was fighting off a major panic attack, and was terrified I would lose my son because of the weight, the memories, the all of it here in this house that I perceived they just didn't want to experience. I've had seven years to find/create balance between the weight, the memories, the panic, the helplessness, and the comfort and love of memories both sweet and painful, but my son walked right into it after eleven years away and those awful nights they stayed here in shock before we all went to do what needed to be done in Portland, where her home was and where she died. They were a huge help. I could not have done it without them. But yep, that was the last time they stayed here in that spare room. "Out of sight, out of mind," and all THAT comes tumbling back when he comes "home" to stay in that room again, I thought. So I thought the message about his wife's allergies was a kind way of them saying, we can't stay at your home. And I thought I would lose both my children, not just Sweet Jess. ACK! I didn't know WHAT to do or say or HOW to handle it at all! (This nearly never happens to me, I tend to be very concise, and I prefer things that way.)
So I thought and thought and took a 1/2 ativan to fight the head spinning anxiety, and figured I would not approach this directly, since it didn't seem they wanted to: it was about Torey's wife's health, not "the spare room." I decided I would have to hide my feelings and just give them an open door to figure out their emotions on their own in their own time, and hope that my son would have some room for me in his heart somewhere so I wouldn't lose him. Even if that means visiting on "outside territory" that doesn't carry the weight of Jessie's life and her struggles and our sadness in this home. They can stay wherever it feels comfortable and I have to be comfortable with that. I can do that. Right?
I charged up my phone and knew we would have a call with the kids after they got finished with work, and I'd worked with myself to get this to a place that gives them "a back door," flexibility, when I really wanted to say, "I need you, please come and be with me."
Welp. Guess what? It was NOT about ME. Hello dear, neurotic Jen!
When we talked on the phone (deep breaths before I called him from the porch outside) he said they'd cancelled their trip altogether and they chose to do that because they didn't want OTHERS to feel uncomfortable with his wife's allergy coughing.
Oh wow. How generous! How sweet! How thoughtful! How them! I know that's who they are, because they always were, when we visited them, but I had gone into "me" zone. (Heck, I hate when I do that.)
SUCH relief. It isn't US. It isn't Jess. It isn't the horrible thing I was envisioning about death and weight and memories, it's JUST thoughtfulness and coughing and allergies and WOW.
SO - I feel relieved of course, but wanted to share my story so that we are ALL reminded it isn't all about US. And it is definitely worthwhile to take a few steps back and b r e a t h e before we react from our own sometimes myopic worldview lens.
Yes, I am still considering moving, to have that "clean page" without all the struggles and weight. Yes, I am very aware of how any appearance of photos and stuff belonging to my daughter might affect others spending time with us, but there's no way I'm going to deny her existence by putting it all away. It's wonderful to acknowledge that she was here, and to tell stories about her love and life. She was, is, and always will be a beloved part of our lives.
But most important of all, is WOW, I was reminded today to open up and step out of my own viewpoint; my kids were being very generous and compassionate about others and their fears of covid, coughs, and general germ phobia, which is understandably rampant these days.
Aren't they just amazing? Thanks kids. From the bottom of my heart. For the consideration of others and for the reminder that I needed to open up my viewpoint.
I do think there's some truth to my concerns, as the parents in the grief groups have had several discussions about losing relatives because of the pain, and about whether to move or continue to live in the house with weighty struggles - there's no right answer for that one. Some people thrive in a new environment, others have regrets about moving, but one thing we know for sure is that no matter what, this is something you can't outrun. It's something you learn to carry, and it's always going to be a bit of a roller coaster, though I've found the ride gets a little bit smoother and somewhat more predictable and I get better at knowing when to hang on and when to scream and when to giggle and when to just turn my face into the wind and let my hair blow behind me.
The big thing I learned? It's not about me. It's not about me. It's not about me. B r e a t h e. And embrace the beauty of others being themselves. (And yes, maybe move, or enjoy redoing the house as we are able.)
So tonight, after porch talking and much listening and support, my thoughtful husband is making COMFORT FOOD for us, pot pie - chicken, peas, carrots, potatoes, cream of asparagus soup (Campbells) and crust from scratch. (Not a Taste of Home recipe, but good nonetheless.)
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| MMMmmmmmm.... |
Bon appetit. All better now for a minute, food is love and works like a charm, along with hugs and the anticipation of a visit later, when everyone feels better. Wish I could bring them some good old chicken soup!
And in case you might be interested in those breakfast recipes, check 'em out! https://www.tasteofhome.com/
Namaste my Loves
