Thursday, March 22, 2012
It's only 12:30PM but my house smells like dinnertime. The inviting aroma of hearty lasagna fills the air. The kind of smell that makes me hungry immediately, even though I no longer eat this kind of food. It smells like home and comforts me. This dinner isn't for me though, it's for my friend who lost her husband (my friend as well)tragically last week.
Women my age should not be mourning the loss of their husbands, it's so strange that it still doesn't feel real. I cannot imagine what she is going through right now. How do you explain to a child that their father isn't coming home. Ever. I have a hard time explaining to K when D has to work late. The amount of details she must be dealing with right now has to be daunting. Mountains of paperwork, legal documents and funeral details alone is an impossible task for a woman feeling such loss. The last thing she needs to think about is dinner.
Bringing food across town is a small thing for me to do but it means a lot to someone else. When I first saw the sign up post I immediately thought of lasagna. I'm not sure why but I felt compelled to bring it. The smell that fills my house when I make it is so comforting me to. Make me warm and cozy and brings me to a place of peace. I have no idea why this happens. I am not Italian, I have no memories of anyone in my family cooking or filling the house with such homey smells. It's something I started making when K was a baby. When I made my house a home. I never really had those "brings me back home" feelings. After I had K I realized I could make my own, and that's what I did. The past can be anything that happened before today, it can be a week, a year a decade, it doesn't matter. Besides my life (or the good part of it) started about 10 years ago. Sights, sounds and smells bring me back to the memories I have created, they bring me back home. My home.
I was hoping that I could bring a moment of comfort to a house in mourning. As usual I made enough food for 10 people, this wasn't done on purpose, I actually do not know how to make a small meal.
K insisted we add some freshly made cookies for them as well. My little girl also hates to see anyone sad and will think of a million ways to make someone smile. That's why I brought her with me when I dropped off their dinner. Unfortunately my friend was out picking up her son. I was able to talk to her mom who updated me on how things were going. She's trying to be strong and get things done but it's so hard. I gave her the giant containers of food and hoped that it brought some comfort.
I guess that's my definition of comfort food. Bringing comfort to someone else.