My husband grabs an expired box of pancake mix out of the pantry and asks:
"Do you have any emotional attachment to this mix?"
And I burst into tears.
I can remember, so clearly
Making a botched batch of zucchini pancakes.
With tofu noodles.
Making these with my sidekick. My right arm.
My Michael.
And then going out for pizza instead.
Because why would I think that zucchini pancakes, with tofu noodles, would be delicious?
This is my state of mind.
Holding onto things because there are memories associated.
I'm a hoarder.
It pains me to throw away anything that has any sort of attachment to Michael.
Stu put the pancake mix back in the closet. For another day.
I am a crazy woman. With a very sweet husband.
Who asks first because he knows me.
And doesn't think I am losing it.
Or at least he keeps that part to himself.
3 comments:
Love you!
Oh my goodness...I am so very glad that I found your blog through Lori@I Can Grow People! What you wrote in this post happens to us so often here...the day that we lost our Michael, I had gone grocery shopping. Up until that evening, it was a normal Tuesday with both of my boys at school and me running around to get as much done as possible before they got home at three. Because of his disability, Michael needed a pureed diet, and I always kept baby food on hand in the house to prepare a quick snack or meal for him...today two years, six months and two days after he died, one lonely jar of mixed vegetables still sits in my kitchen cabinet. Because I bought it for him, and can't bring myself to throw it away and know that I will never have another of Michael's baby food jars in my cupboard again. And if it ever comes up, I know that I will give my dear husband the "you know why I won't throw it away" look, and he will not mention it again. I'm so glad your husband understands as well. <3
Very well.
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