Flash, CC, Marley, Avery and I celebrated Thanksgiving early this year—a potluck with friends. Somehow, I ended up cooking my very first turkey for the shindig. After two short years of cooking regular meals and 10 years of vegetarianism only recently ended, it seemed a daunting task. (Mike was such a fantastic cook, I was truly handicapped in the kitchen by the time he died in 2007. I rarely cooked a meal in the 17 years we were together.)
Since returning to my omnivorous roots back in February, I’ve been purchasing local, free range, antibiotic-free meat from a farmer that I met while on a photo assignment years ago. Vegetarian at the time, I made a mental note that if I ever were to purchase meat again, it would be from Charles Ritch of Goose Pond Farm.
And I’ve made good on that promise.
But it’s not always easy to get that meat to the table. For the two holiday turkeys I ordered, I had to drive 1.5 hours to Hartselle to pick them up on butchering day. Which happened to be the day before our meal.
This meant a very busy Friday. My schedule looked something like this:
Get up to run with Mary at 5:30 am (got to justify the next day’s pig out somehow; most of my pants are getting quite tight. Not a good sign before the holiday season kicks off). Get kids to school. Photo assignment in the morning. Pick up Avery at 12:30 (I’m trying to save money by putting him in for only half days on Mondays and Fridays). Drive with Avery to Hartselle and hope he doesn’t get too squiggly during the 3-hour round trip. Pick up quick lunch at Burger King. Get turkey roasting pan from mom on the way home. Pick up Marley at Bella’s house. Throw in frozen pizza to feed kids while I figure out how to brine the turkey and make stuffing. Spend a frantic 30 minutes cleaning house before picking up Marley’s piano teacher Elena from the airport at 11:00 pm. Prepare for a 6am wake up call to get turkey in oven. Turkey lunch @ noon Saturday at Paige and Jesse’s house.
Frightening, no? I wasn’t quite sure I’d be able to pack all of it in.
And of course PMS, which has been my monthly companion for about a year, (perimenopause, anyone?) added an extra measure of that jittery, overwhelmed, frazzled feeling.
On the way up to the farm, I put my ipod on shuffle, and one of Mike’s band’s songs comes on. I turn up the volume. “This is your daddy’s band,” I say.
Then a sad and shaky voice from the back seat says, “I miss daddy. It makes me sad to hear his music.”
“It makes me sad, too, baby,” I say. “God, I hate this for him,” I think, verging on tears as I listen to Mike’s bass and background vocals.
And then Avery brightens. “Good thing a new dad moved in. I like this music,” he says.
Wow. I know exactly how he feels. Love. Pain. Love again. I can feel them simultaneously, these rich and diverse textures rolling around my heart. And you have to acknowledge them both to really live life. I hope that is one lesson my kids have learned from all that they have been through.
As we waited in line for our turkey at the farm, Avery loudly announces that he is done with his drink, thrusting the paper Sponge Bob cup in my face. I look at the woman in line behind me and say, “Yes, we stopped at Burger King on the way to pick up our drug and chemical-free pasture-raised birds. Crazy, huh?” We both laughed.
I’m glad Avery can appreciate the very different pleasures of eating Burger King meal and a lovingly prepared homemade holiday meal made from the best ingredients one can find.
Its like touching pain and love and knowing them both. We are richer for it.
Poor guy–Avery’s really feeling it hard these days, isn’t he? I’ll still occasionally get bouts of irrational fear (actually heart pounding terror) when I’m separated from family; like it’s an absolute certainty that they’re going to die and I’ll be left all alone again. Has nothing at all to do with reality (though who knows, right?) but it feels 100% real.
Thanks for the comment! I love comments on the blog!!! Thanks Allison.
Well Avery is never one to be subtle about anything, though his reaction at school today was extreme even for him.
I’m glad you shared this. I’ve been doing this thing lately around here if Flash isn’t where I think he is, I start mentally freaking out and looking for his body slumped on the floor, or lying in the back yard or whatever. Starting to worry about my fears. Fear about fear. Could become a negative feedback loop. Or is this just some type of PTSD? Maybe we are the realistic ones…..everything does eventually end.
One thing for sure, though, is that I have such a greater sense of appreciation (at times) than I ever have for everyone around me, and life in general. Even the sucky parts of it.
I have to laugh, because I still do that! I’ll think Rob’s in the house and call his name and when I don’t get an answer after calling several times I’ll snap into freakout mode, rushing around looking for him, certain he’s had a heart attack. My former therapist called it PTSD and I don’t think she was off the mark, because it definitely touches on the trauma of my first husband’s death.
It sounds like Avery is having is own freaky uncertainties these days. I wonder how it meshes with his age? I haven’t been there yet, but it seems to me I read some something about a developmental awareness of life outside of ones self (and knowledge of mortality) that comes around age 5. We’re not there yet, so I don’t know.