Have you ever
prepared a meal with the intent of simply providing nourishment for your body
but find that it nourished your soul exponentially?
A couple of Sundays ago I made a beef stew. It
was a six quart cast iron pot of goodness. The usual fare was involved; carrots,
onions, peas, potatoes and marinated beef but this recipe also contained
mushrooms, sundried tomatoes, garlic and rosemary! As enjoyable as it was, I knew that my husband
and I would never eat all of the leftovers.
Of course freezing them for future use is always an option. But I know
myself. Those containers with the
remaining meals are safely tucked away for another day. Somehow
in my house they seem to find a long term or, okay, a retirement home in the back
of the freezer. Usually they crystalize beyond recognition and ultimately end
up in the garbage. So I thought, why not
share them with someone other than the garbage can.
At first I thought I
would give the leftovers to my parents.
But when I reviewed the list of ingredients I realized that at least
three of them were on my Dad’s “do not consume list”! The next person who crossed my mind is the
Mother of a friend. Through the daily
news feed of Facebook I knew that this woman was suffering from a severe back
ailment. Each post screamed with her
pain and discomfort. Maybe a little home cooking would lighten her load and
brighten her day.
In the few years that
I have known Dot her whit is always sharp, her presence clear and her laughter
abundant. Actually, her family’s interactions
always remind me of the television show “Everybody Loves Raymond”. It is not as much the subject matter that
draws the parallel but rather the constant good hearted jabbing that is always supported
by an undercurrent of love. I have
witnessed this firsthand both in person and in the cyber world. More often than not I find myself laughing
out loud while I am in their company or reading their passionate and extremely humorous
banter.
With pain consuming
her Dot’s presence in the cyber world had been diminished. That night as I was cleaning the dishes and
packing the leftover stew I sent Dot a message and offered to drop some by her
place. She lives with her large tabby cat Pachelbel. As many talents that he
may possess I know cooking is not one of them! I had remembered that in a
Facebook post a week earlier Dot was thanking the people in her life for all
they had done to help her during this difficult time. Chauffeuring, grocery shopping and cleaning
were all mentioned, but there was not one mention of cooking. In response to the post I asked,
“Who has the cooking
covered?”
Dot joking replied;
“That would be you! I am awaiting a bowl of chicken noodle soup.”
I didn’t have soup
but I had stew and that would suffice.
We made plans for me to drop by her place on Tuesday during my lunch
hour. When I contacted her Dot was probably
wondering “WT*?”. We had met a few
times, shared group meditation experiences, but this an unsolicited offer for
sure. I know Dot through her
daughter. Her daughter came into my life
at a time when I realized that the way I have lived for forty plus years no
longer brought me joy or peace. Dot’s
daughter is fifteen years my junior but she has been one of my greatest
teachers. Her daughter showed me how to settle
my mind and connect with the peace that resides within. As a professor of life she did not simply
lecture about the ways to move to this place of comfort but she traveled along
with me. She was not immune to the pain
of the journey actually she too was meandering along a similar river of
self-discovery. We opened the locks and
shored the dams and sometimes we resided within the same muck! As time progressed
and we arrived at the junction where the rivers intersect she chose to flow
with one current and I the other. I am
forever grateful for her teachings and influence on my life.
So why not share some beef stew with her Mother who was
dealing with severe physical pain? Dot
left the front door unlocked for me. Getting up and down is not only time
consuming for her but also painful. I
let myself in and was immediately greeted by Pachelbel the guard cat. As I unpacked my gifts I was never out of his
sight.
I sat on the couch. Dot was in her motorized recliner, the kind
that can be raised up or the back panel adjusted with the simple touch of a
button on a keypad. Pachelbel the guard cat settled on a spot between us. He was on the couch but close to Dot’s
chair. After a kiss and a hug the
conversation began. I asked how she was
feeling and if there was anything that I could do to assist her. She asked
about the recent camping adventure that I had posted on Facebook. Every five to
ten minutes Dot tapped a button on her remote control and repositioned her
chair in the attempt to alleviate her pain.
Pachelbel allowed me to pet him. With each stroke he kept me within his gaze. Suddenly he lifted his paw, extended his
claws and sucker “pawed” me with a left to my hand. Dot yelled “Pachelbel! Stop!”
I was fine, just a little swipe, but I received the message loud and
clear. He was watching me. One wrong or hurtful move towards his
companion and I would receive much worse!
Our conversation
flowed effortlessly. There was not one
moment of awkward silence. I asked
about her prognosis and treatment options. She listened as I chatted about a
few recent life altering trips that I had taken. We discussed the fears that we have when we
meet the major junctures in life’s crossroads and the innate need that we have
as women to nurture and renew ourselves.
Dot has lived within the comfortable confines
of laughter for years but she has existed within hallows of pain for many
more. Before she had the chance to let
go of his hand and allow him to board the kindergarten bus, she buried her
third child. It did not matter how
deeply she loved him, how tightly she held him or how softly she sang him his
favorite lullaby. Her young son moved
on. She is no stranger to pain physical
or emotional.
Our time together
flew. I was well over my allotted hour
for lunch. I ration each of my vacation hours like a gallon of gas during the energy
crisis of the 1970’s. I’m always looking
for the best and most economical use of the gallon or in this case the hour. When I returned to work I was happy to deduct
that extra hour from my bank of allotted vacation. I appeared on this woman’s
doorstep with some leftover beef stew, a few books a plant and some chocolate
but I left with a full heart.
Several years back
the author Mitch Ablom wrote the book “Tuesdays with Morrie”. It told the story of the time he spent with
his former college professor who was battling ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease). As the Tuesday visits progressed Mitch
realized that what began with his simple intent to assist his mentor became one
of the greatest gifts he gave himself. His
story is plural. He spent many Tuesdays
with Morrie. I spent one Tuesday with
Dot but felt equally enriched by our visit.
I hope to spend a few more Tuesday’s in her company. Maybe I’ll make that chicken noodle soup and
stop by to see her again.
“The most important thing in life is learn how to give out
love, and to let it come in.”
― Mitch Albom, Tuesdays With Morrie
― Mitch Albom, Tuesdays With Morrie
