I don’t often get that ‘personal’ here. I mean, food is personal- i love it, I cook it, I eat it. But the events that influence what I eat, aren’t often talked about.
Honestly. Can I be honest?
Two, almost, three years ago, my parents decided to divorce. I should say, my father decided, but marriage takes two and my mother was thrown into the equation. When they broke the news to us, I thought it was a joke. I looked around, heart pounding, at my little brother, who just nodded ‘yes’, eyes down. It was one of those ‘out of body’ experiences when time. just. stops. That is, until you’re knuckle punched back into reality and spitting out any brave words you can muster.
Whenever friends said their parents divorced. I felt sorry for them, but that’s about it. I didn’t know what that said about their life. What they had been through. What they were going through.
Divorce sucks. There’s no other way to say it, to sugar coat it, to explain it. It sucks. It feels like you’ve been dumped, repeatedly, over and over, by your first love. They care, then they don’t care, and then they claim to have never stopped caring. It’s heart breaking–because you thought your parents were superheroes, confusing—because you can’t understand, and it’s just plain awful. That’s divorce, to me.
Two, almost, three years ago, and I’m still not over it. I hope my siblings are, but I seriously doubt it. The other night, I called my mama crying. (Confession, I’m 26 years old and I still cry to my mom.) I vented, I didn’t sleep, and when C finally woke up, I got up to make us oatmeal. HA! Out of all of the other sinfully delicious things on earth–Oatmeal. Sometimes I surprise myself.
I made Oatmeal with Diced Cinnamon Apples, just like the apples my mother used to make when she made pancakes for breakfast, hugged by a ring of homemade almond milk, a scoop of almond/peanut butter, hemp seeds, and bee pollen. It’s hot, it’s cozy, it’s tasty, and I don’t even care that it’s healthy.
I sat on the couch and plopped C in the crevice of my arm and hip. I handed her a spoon, and we watched Sesame Street over Cinnamon Apple Oatmeal, and homemade almond milk. She made a total mess of my black robe but we were calm, content, and quiet.