*8/31/2020 Matt asked me, "When are we going to eat the bruschetta?"
When it comes to using fresh tomatoes in recipes, I take an extra step. I do not prefer the middle of the tomato, the seeds in particular. I'll gut the fruit prior to dicing it. That takes extra clean up which takes extra time. To gain back some of that preparation time, instead of mincing fresh garlic, I use frozen crushed garlic. If not fresh, frozen is next best in my opinion.
Grandpa had an advanced level vegetable garden - eggplant, cabbage, broccoli, cucumber, tomato, cauliflower, etc. etc. It was neat to watch Grandpa garden. (9/4/20 I especially enjoyed watching him till his garden with the tiller - it was loud, violent in turning the earth, and smelled like gasoline. 9/4/2020)
There are some things I have grown an appreciation for as an adult - like Mom always refilling the liquid soap in the bathroom - but there was one thing I remember having an appreciation for in the moment as a child, and one of those things is Grandpa's hard work. Especially in the garden - his vegetables were quintessential and tasted like that, too. If I had to say how that could be - it is because he lived the intensity of the labor out loud. He sweat ALOT, for one. 9/15/20 Sweaty or not, he always welcomed a hug from his grandchildren. I remember those hugs. He never smelled like he was perspiring, though. I think Grandpa was just his smell. That and Barbasall and aftershave. I remember playing with a puff of his shaving cream after I washed my hands in the bathroom. 9/15/20 And two, he would gnash his teeth to gather the energy before releasing it all in the consonants of the chosen expletive. And three, what it took for Grandma to diffuse the moment - it seemed to be all in the way she would respond with, "Francis" and "Alright". Grandpa was not only mighty in stature, but he was mighty in presence.
Grandma prayed The Rosary everyday.
She prayed it with Great Grandma Gilley, everyday, in the afternoon, a short while after we ate a bowl of Blue Bell's Homeade Vanilla from the deep freeze while we watched an episode of "Lassie". (9/4/2020 I always remember getting very sleepy listening to Grandma and Grandma Gilley pray. 9/4/2020)
Homeade Vanilla was the only flavor of ice cream I remember Grandpa eating. Ever. Grandpa Sugarplum's deep freeze was stocked with a variety of Blue Bell flavors. Grandma and Granpda and Grandma and Grandpa Sugarplum lived a few houses down from each other on the same street. There's high school sweethearts, but childhood sweethearts is more honest and deep. Mom and Dad are childhood sweethearts.
It is also Grandpa's birthday today -8/31. I am not sure how old he would have been. Amanda reminded us yesterday at lunch hosted by her and Bryan, Grandma is 89 this year. (9/4/2020 Amanda took even greater care to make homemade flour/corn tortillas for the enchiladas. She recited the tortilla recipe and while I listened I laughed to myself - when I am cooking, one thing I look forward to is the time I will have a recipe for something that rests on a recipe, like tortillas, by memory.
My cousin Jesse and I message each other, and we picked up the pace during Lockdown. He enjoys cooking enchiladas and baking Nutella cookies. I communicated one of my goals to him - to cook a meal without burning anything. I’ve been doing pretty good.
Matt packed a Twice the Ice bag of ice in our garage freezer. We woke up to the freezer contents defrosted. The bag was too bulky, and the door door bounced off the seal. This is funny because he always catches the freezer door when this happens to me, and this was the first time it happened to him. Fortunately, we caught the food in good time. We cooked like 6 meals simultaneously that day, and I only burned the turkey meatloaf. We still ate it. That’s how I knew all my hard work in that goal has, yet, been paying off. #progressreport 9/4/20)
I answered Matt, "Bruschetta for lunch today." And now that lunch has come and gone, I remember I forgot to include a side of arugula dressed with a pepperoncini *not sure if there is really an 'n' in its name or not* dressing. That is such a good combination. I got this pepperoncini dressing because its ingredients' list is short and non-chemical-ee. So, I picked up three bottles off the shelf. We found it to be very tart! I was being bombarded by the mentionings of arugula on clips I clicked on, and I just had to understand the fascination with this leaf because how randomly and consecutively it was being mentioned, at that point, just seemed nothing more than a nudge. Because everytime I reached into that section of the pantry I asked myself, "What are we going to eat all this dressing with?" The licorishness of the arugula is just as spicy as the tartness of the pepperoncinis. We just opened that third bottle of dressing. #brainspacecleared
At this moment, I wish I had my lap desk - the little whiteboard glued to material stuffed with bean bag filling. It is funny to me how laptops run temperatures, too, and if they get overheated, they shutdown.
You know what else is funny? Blessings. Matt working from home has been one of the greatest blessings. Before we knew he was going to work from home permanently, I was so torn in enjoying him working from home. Because it is something I always wanted for us. And the feeling of temporary in this circumstance was really hard to receive because #itwas "Was" as in a want is #inging
The want is so present it is double -ing -ing. It was more than a want, it was a want I was needing, and not just telling myself I needed - I was fully aware I needed. I shared one day that a want and a need together feels like Jesus. #metrying Or I can say it like this - an answered prayer that springs forth from a blessing in life. That feels like Jesus. Again, #metrying. I can rest in God, but that doesn't mean it comes easy to me. It is hard. I rested when we received confirmation Matt's home for good. I tried to enunciate my joy in it to Matt one day - Even though he is right downstairs, that's not enough. I knew he understood because it made him laugh. Even though it may seem on the contrary to Matt, yet he knows - I am good alone. As is he. We are good alone together. We are good together. And when we are apart in any of those equations, we miss each other - especailly when we are angry with one another taking our time to decompress - that's one of the ways we are good alone I am grateful for. That is how far my definition of harmony in our relationship stretches, and the point I would define us as harmonious.
As Matt unloaded the dishwasher before sitting down at the table as I fixed a bruschetta toast for myself, I had an idea he allowed me to expand on. He probably unloaded the dishwasher because it is a mindful-mindless activity - it keeps him balanced. Not too deep into my conversation with myself and not too removed from the conversation from myself. Unloading the dishwasher is an activity that helps him endure the journey until I get to the point. He will try to rush me to get to the point by asking, "When will you be getting to the point?" And it's funny...I noticed he asked me this just as the loaded dishes were dwindling to the silverware. And he was hungry. I have talking points but I don't have talking points - I can best explain what I mean by that as rather than talking points, I feel like I have mile markers. It is hard for me to get my thoughts out, and I know Matt has a hard time following them because sometimes I feel like I am beginning my conversation with random points and weaving them into an idea. He says he gets anxious when I ask him to talk, and I can understand why. He doesn't know how long me, asking him to listen to myself talk out loud is going to take.
In Friends, Joey had this phrase to describe a person's opinion that doesn't matter. A moo point. He explains, the opinion of a cow doesn't matter. It's moo. Although, I appreciate an animal's good opinion of me. It is a high compliment. But I totally got the point Joey was trying to make to Rachel.
I always -hope- when I ask Matt to listen to me I will arrive to - a Matt point. A point that makes all of the trails which in real time seemingly lead nowhere, make the destination complete sense. I hustle in my hope, too. I wonder if Matt can hear the hustle in my voice.*
*9/2/20 He must because he can now hustle in a task while listening to me at the same time.
I know when I successfully reached a Matt point, too. It’s just by how he conveys his sense of pride in me.
I put my hustle in overdrive because I knew he was hungry for bruschetta.
I built my idea of confidence. And Matt “kissed me on the forehead”.
One of my unwritten goals since I became mature enough to know I had the desire to make the act a goal for myself is to pray The Rosary everyday. This August I have been working diligently to receive the power of this prayer.
I reached for the only rosary I have. I held onto it dearly since I received it in 2002. I took a moment to remember who gave it to me before I recited my first rosary on my own.
(The fear of not knowing how to say it is one of the reasons I had not yet began. #thankgoodnessforyoutube Another is because when you are that young, 20 minutes seems much longer than it actually is. After my first recitation, I surprisingly asked Matt, “Did you know The Rosary only takes roughly 20 minutes to pray?” His reply made me laugh, “20 minutes is a long time.” #toofunny)
Marsha.
Marsha was pretty cool. She was a friend of mine and Bj’s in the nursing program. She shared with us she had an Associates Degree in...
Mortuary Science.
Bj and I were fascinated by this. We asked her a bunch of questions out of curiosity. And Marsha simply “Yep!”’d us.
In about 2013, Matt told me he was interested in the business of funeral homes. I was ready to look into a degree in Mortuary Science.
Needless to say, we did not purse that venture as a couple.
Marsha gave me my first Rosary. She actually handmade it for me, too.
I remember receiving it as a gift from her with gratitude, but it wasn’t until this month I received the feeling of remembering her with a deeper gratitude. I was a very shy and quiet classmate - Marsha just knew a depth of me. On her own with very little to go on from me. I hugged The Rosary tight, and it gave me a peace while I grasped each bead in prayer. The thread felt carefully woven and had a strange depth of weight in my interdigital spaces.
I have gifted friends my own vacuums, and I think of those vacuums. Mostly because cleaning is one of my jams. #literally I love to sing to songs through my headphones while I vacuum. I wonder what the vacuum thinks of my ability. (When I sing to Dixie she winces her eyes at me in content. Hank will come visit me from his nap when I begin.)
I wonder if Marsha thinks of The Rosary she gifted me. #madewithcare
I had the conversation about the idea of confidence with Matt after my tiny victory in my journey to establish this goal - praying The Rosary. #sorrowfulmysteriesedition I deeply appreciated the way Matt received the destination I arrived to with him.
One of my mile markers I met with Matt before lunch yesterday: I am confident because of the hard work to be the person I am becoming whom I’ve always known myself to be. #iamconfident
Today’s Rosary recitation audio for the day of Wednesday is the edition of The Glorious Mysteries. *
9/14/2020 I was listening to a different Rosary recitation today, and one of the things I glimpse at is the comment section out of curiosity. Viewers will write what they are praying for, there. It is neat to read others’ devotion to their belief in prayer in their waiting.
I came across another comment that is familiar. I appreciated how the originator of the content responded as all comments were acknowledged. Their response was in the spirit of acceptance. There was no reply.
The comment went something like this - “There is no need to recite prayers to God. People don’t have to pray to any other name than Jesus.”
I found the timing of finding this comment strange. I spent some time answering my own curiosity in the realm of wondering why people are so adamant against intercessional prayer. I debated on replying but then left it alone. Instead, I acknowledged it as a nudge reminding me it is something I wanted to add, here.
This person is entitled to their own opinion, but I didn’t agree with the breadth of their opinion. It felt shallow, out of place and dismissive. Simply, it was received as uninvited.
Before committing to this goal, I took time to understand where my desire was planted, how it had grown, why it remained with me, when it aligned with my attention, and what importance it was to me.
One importance, to honor the strength of a mother. The silent suffering Mary endured - she shared Jesus’ burden this way. By her faith and in her quiet strength she made His burden lighter. That is my belief. She remained gentle and kind through it all, too. So to honor her as the mother of Jesus.
Within each Mystery, there are Fruits of the Mystery. The Sorrowful Mystery is one that is difficult to balance through. Of course. But that’s where mystery is defined to me. There are Fruits there, too. Probably the heaviest ones, but I’m just learning them. It just feels right to say they are the heaviest ones because finding friends who’ve labored honestly to receive the fruits of those experiences is not easy. I don’t know if that makes sense, it just seems to given who I look up to.
Also, because it helps me connect the feeling.
It disappointed me to read someone’s opinion written carelessly as “there is no need for this”. I felt it would be have been more appropriate to ask, “Why do you choose to recite The Rosary?”
And, too, because speaking the right truth is powerful. There are moments when I have felt I need to find my own words to pray. That is an incredible amount of pressure to put on myself. When I’ve tried to do that, I get lost in my own words and then distracted. That doesn’t help. My mom shared with me once when she is feeling overwhelmed, she recites prayer. It is helpful.
I met Deb when I began dog walking. I never thought of this, but she reminds me of Marsha! She gave me the book titled “You Are The Beloved” in the photo. I was walking beside Leanna in her journey at the time she gifted the book to me. At one point Leanna realized her journey was just as important to mine when she accidentally defined her chemotherapy treatment as “our treatment”.
Deb told me I once, “I am one of the first human beings she knows.” I appreciate her sense of humor. She’s got a good one. She can express her deepest sincerities in a moment of gratitude for a moment of goofiness. That is how she thanked me for a bag of chicharones flavored with rosemary and garlic I grabbed for her, too, to try. We had gotten on a tangent about porkskins, and I had found an end cap in the grocery store featuring gourmet flavored pork skins. She reported rosemary and pork skins wasn’t the best flavor combination. I agreed. Some things are better left un-. 9/14/20
Comments
Post a Comment