One of my Sunday afternoon tasks is to make out the menus and grocery list for the next week or two. Typically it involves asking Himself and #4 what they would like to eat. Now it’s up to Me and #4. A lot less food, too. When I make a meal, it would include enough to package up for Himself and #4 to take for lunch later in the week. Now, it’s a solid 2 large servings less. Possibly even less than that as often #4 would like a sandwich.
I had just learned how to cook for the 3 of us since Brothers moved out! In less than a year, I have gone from cooking for 5 large eaters to cooking for 2, with one not eating much at all. Talk about having to make a change. Wow.
#4 informed me that he kind of prefers a lot more vegetables as well, which is nice, because they are a lot less expensive than meat. Over the years I have expanded the culinary repertoire to include a bunch of South Asian stuff, which uses meat more like a condiment than a main course. It is a little bit exciting to know I will be able to cook the way I have always wanted to, but didn’t because Himself was such a meat and potatoes kind of person.
I honestly don’t care if I never cook another meatloaf in my entire life. Or beef tips and mashed potatoes. Or chicken fried steak.
I queried #4 about his chicken preference, light or dark meat, and like me, he prefers the dark. Perfect! I can get those super cheap leg quarters and we will both be happy!
Every time I write something about a change like this, that I am happy about, it feels like I am being disloyal to Himself. I think it should go without saying that I would much rather have Himself here and make meatloaf, than be without him and have lettuce wraps.
However, it is in my nature to look for the best in a bad situation, and that is what I am doing.
what is still there, a constant reminder of everything that has happened over the past 12 days and 21 hours, is that knot in the pit of my stomach. Like a strange thing put there, a reminder that All Is Not As It Was. However, there is also the constant presence of the Holy Spirit, a comforting thing that tells me All Will Be Well, even through the unexpected moments of intense sorrow, the insta-tears that come right after a thought of “oh, I need to tell Himself about this!”. I hear it gets better.