I have many identities
daughter, mother, grandmother, friend.
But who am I really? And what do I like?
One day shortly after my husband passed away, I realized my food situation was dire. Like Old Mother Hubbard who went to the cupboard, I found it to be bare.
I decided it was time for a trip to the grocery store. As I walked up and down the aisles of the store I could not find anything I liked to eat. I bought milk and eggs and came home.
After a couple of days I couldn't think of any other way to fix the eggs. I made them fried, scrambled, boiled, and in egg salad. So back to the store I went, and back up and down the isles I searched for something to eat.
What did I like anyway? As I told myself to "get a grip," and, "it's only food, for heaven's sake, find something!" I just couldn't do it. I thought back to what Paul and I ate for dinner. Okay, now I'm getting somewhere. We ate chicken. Then I thought "Do I really like chicken, or did he like chicken?" I didn't know, but I didn't want any.
So I went back to the dairy department, bought more milk and eggs and went home.
The next morning as I sat eating those eggs I began to think of the time in my life before I met Paul. What did I like to eat back then? What kind of things did I like to do? Paul and I did everything together. It was hard to even remember me before him.
Then I remembered. When I first met Paul he used to take me out for fresh fish every Friday because 'I LIKED FISH.' For years I didn't cook fish at home because he didn't like the smell of cooking fish.
I went back to the store and bought fish. I made pan fried fish and I made salmon patties and I enjoyed them. (I did have to spray the house with air freshener.)
Did eating fish make up for the loss of my husband? Never! But it was the beginning of discovering a little more about myself.
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.