September 14, 2010
As John Lennon said, “strange days, indeed.” As I write this, my Mom is on her way home from the hospital after several days battling a colon infection. About colon infections: you don’t want one.
My Mom is obviously doing much better, but the past few days have brought up giant waves of emotion in her and me. This is, after all, the first time she’s been quite ill since Dad died 14 months ago. My brother, who lives within two hours of Mom, was able to be at the hospital with her and speak to the doctors. Another aside: if you can have a family member act as your medical advocate, do it. It’s always helpful to have another person to ask questions and listen to what the docs have to say.
Before Mom was diagnosed with the colon infection, my mind twisted its way into various fearful scenarios, and I maintained an internal battle of wills to concentrate my attention on the “what we know now” as opposed to the crushed glass, hamster wheel of hell called “what if? what if?”
What my Mom experienced in the hospital: an epic feeling of loneliness is not unusual given the reality of her circumstances. Nor is it unusual that I’d feel anxious and lonely because I could not be there in person. As she grew weepy with me on the phone over the course of her hospital stay, it occurred to me that I was offering what I could in that moment. I suppose there is always the question of “is it enough?” But then, the weepy moment passes…the feeling subsides or ebbs and we are onto the next.
The day after Mom went into the hospital I spent the afternoon at my dear friend’s house watching the University of South Carolina battle the Georgia bulldogs. My friend is a Georgia fan, and we groaned and lamented as the pain wore on. In quieter moments of the game, we talked about my Mom and my friend’s sister whose marriage is breaking up. Aside: when faced with infidelity, small gestures like say, cutting the buttons off a dress shirt can provide a quick, albeit slightly petty bit of retributional joy.
Fast forward to this morning: when friends at Blue Ion and I present a new direction in marketing to the folks at Maverick Southern Kitchens: to include new strategy, copy, designs and websites. As I surveyed the room during the course of the presentation, I was humbled by the sheer fact that a group of folks was listening to what we had to say and was even moved to share their thoughts with us. There is something so primal about cooking…feeding…nourishing and nurturing others. Part of the reason I am so intrigued by what Maverick does is simply by the virtue that I am enamored by the notion of food as a means of conversation and connection. And they do it so well. Taking the food seriously, but never themselves.
Minutes ago I stood in my backyard, feeling the slightest hint (or wishful thinking on my part) of fall. I noticed an ever so subtle change in the light through the leaves that left me wondering, where does the time go?
I can’t tell you, because I just don’t know. Lately it seems that laughter is most usually followed by tears which is followed by awe, humility, confusion, elation, and now and again a Bloody Mary. But who knows…maybe it’s just me.