Anne & God: Conversations With The Infinite

Transformation

 

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Comfort Food - The Column

There are times in life that take your breath away.

And they aren't always the beautiful moments of awe and wonder. Or joy and optimism. Sometimes they are the bolts of lightening that remind you of hard truths.

Very, very hard truths.

One of the hardest of those truths is that of our mortality. Our fleeting time on this planet with our loved ones. We spend a lot of time waltzing through life as though we will live forever. As though we have infinite time to waste focusing on silly things.

We get all worked up about the little insults, real or imagined, that come our way. We fret over those 15 pounds we can never seem to lose, the irritating coworker who hovers over our workspace, the people in power we didn’t vote for, and the fact that we can't afford that sports car, or the perfect kitchen makeover, or the annual vacation, or even that really cute pair of boots.

But for some of us those petty concerns get wiped out with a 10 second phone call.



"It's cancer. It's inoperable. They're giving me three to six months."



And in less time than it takes to put on those really cute boots the kaleidoscope of your life looks a hell of a lot different.


You hang up the phone in a daze, trying to process what you’ve just heard.

And what does that have to do with pie? 



Well, sometimes that phone call doesn't come to you. It comes to someone near and dear to you. Who is about to lose someone very precious to them.


 And there just don't seem to be ANY words at all you can offer up for comfort. Every word sounds hollow as soon as it leaves your throat.

You try to fight the paralysis. You put your arms around your loved one and hold them tight. You fight back your own tears – vowing to be strong through all that is to come.

But even that seems insufficient. 



So you do one of the only things you can think to do. 



You make your loved one a pie. Or Fettuccine Alfredo. Or mashed potatoes and gravy. Or whatever comfort food is in your wheelhouse.



Food, for right or for wrong, transcends words and leaps deeply down into our souls. From chicken soup to homemade tamales every culture, every family has a recipe that is made and dispensed in time of trouble or illness. It is the food that has been offered to us through all the hard times of our lives by those who love us most. It is how they show us their love and compassion.



And it's why, when that phone call came, that horrible, life altering phone call - I made my husband an apple pie.



It was the least I could do.