It’s unbelievable what the body remembers long before the brain does. I can tell myself that I’ve done all that I can. Intellectually, I can keep reciting the serenity prayer hoping that my body will accept the reality I must live with. I’ve been on overload today. In an effort to escape my body’s turmoil, I looked for something to be of comfort. I have not been very successful.
When I am anxious, I tend to immerse myself in projects or chores. Anxiety is not the emotion of the day. When I am angry, I often spend excessive time cleaning. Today, just the basics were done. When grief takes over, I tend to look for comfort foods. I’ve been doing a good job of allowing myself one piece of chocolate a day. Knowing how long it takes something to be a habit, I choose to not start overindulging again.
I browsed through some Shutterfly pictures today. The memories came flooding in, washing away any resolve of pretending I was not in pain. Darn Shutterfly. Why do they need to send me reminders of what happened on this day X years ago? My body knew before my brain acknowledged the date. Admitting my sadness, I looked for a remedy to still my thoughts and calm my emotions.
I had chicken soup with matzoh balls for lunch. This terrific comfort food smoothed some rough edges. I needed more relief though. I thought about making charoset. I purchased some Manischewitz grape juice yesterday. Perhaps the universe had my back knowing I might need it today. As I played out back with Annie, I attempted to figure out exactly what I needed to calm my soul.
It came to me finally. I was not only grieving the deep loss, but I was also grieving not being able to talk to my mother about my pain. I am grateful that my mom wasn’t here to bear witness to what happened. It would have been even more devastating. I’d just like to have Mom here.
I decided that I needed to make blintzes. No one ever made them as good as Mom, as far as I am concerned. I Googled a recipe that looked familiar. As I was prepping the blintzes, happy memories flooded in. My shoulders relaxed, my headache eased, and my thoughts were transported to happier times. My blintzes are not as beautiful as my mom’s. I am not a pro at neatly wrapping the delicacies. But the taste. The taste was wonderful. It was just what I needed.
Blintzes are a psychological comfort food for me. They remind me that I will be able to bear this pain. They remind me of happier days. They remind me of my mom.