I read the blogs of friends who are in the midst of raising
families and one friend who blogs
(beautifully and deliciously!) about food. I recall my domestic days that seem
in the distant past, those moments of making a family feel safe and loved. But
now my sons have sprung, flown the coop, left the nest, hit the road, moved out
on their own, and I’m left behind in the empty place.
families and one friend who blogs
(beautifully and deliciously!) about food. I recall my domestic days that seem
in the distant past, those moments of making a family feel safe and loved. But
now my sons have sprung, flown the coop, left the nest, hit the road, moved out
on their own, and I’m left behind in the empty place.
At this vantage point, I’m asking myself the meaning of
those comforting times we indulged in that were only a flash in time. Did I help my four sons by making them feel so safe if they’re just going to move out into a world that’s unsafe? Does that
make our home life seem like a mirage? What did our comfort give them? Obviously I think
we gave them lots more than just comfort and food. We gave them a springboard
to jump into life and the tools to do so, but what did the comfort provide? Was
it too much? Did it make them soft? Did it cushion or prepare them for the
blows of the world?
those comforting times we indulged in that were only a flash in time. Did I help my four sons by making them feel so safe if they’re just going to move out into a world that’s unsafe? Does that
make our home life seem like a mirage? What did our comfort give them? Obviously I think
we gave them lots more than just comfort and food. We gave them a springboard
to jump into life and the tools to do so, but what did the comfort provide? Was
it too much? Did it make them soft? Did it cushion or prepare them for the
blows of the world?
We’re in the midst of record cold here in the Chicago area.
Hard to contemplate an area as frigid cold as Chicago having record cold, but here we are. My husband
and I are stuck in the house today (not a bad thing) and I’m being domestic for
once. Me who loves to cook and provide warmth and comfort to others but rarely
has a chance to do so these days with work and school. But last night I put on
some music and started pulling out pans. We smashed some chicken fillets until
they were thin and sautéed them with mushrooms and a marsala wine sauce to be
served over linguine with steamed cauliflower. We decided to forego eating off
our laps in front of the news and instead I set the table and lit candles. We
listened to music and discussed lyrics while eating our delicious dinner with a
glass of nice red wine. How comforting.
Hard to contemplate an area as frigid cold as Chicago having record cold, but here we are. My husband
and I are stuck in the house today (not a bad thing) and I’m being domestic for
once. Me who loves to cook and provide warmth and comfort to others but rarely
has a chance to do so these days with work and school. But last night I put on
some music and started pulling out pans. We smashed some chicken fillets until
they were thin and sautéed them with mushrooms and a marsala wine sauce to be
served over linguine with steamed cauliflower. We decided to forego eating off
our laps in front of the news and instead I set the table and lit candles. We
listened to music and discussed lyrics while eating our delicious dinner with a
glass of nice red wine. How comforting.
But what is the long term value? I sound like someone
who feels guilty having down time and maybe I am, but what point does
comfort serve in our lives? I’m reading The
Book Thief and watched Saving Private
Ryan for the first time this weekend, thinking of the horrors and sacrifice
of war, of other mothers’ sons being sacrificed to war. In one particular scene, a wounded dying soldier calls for his mother and his last thoughts turn toward home. In a world that breeds mindsets that destroy and hate, my comfort seems besides the point.
who feels guilty having down time and maybe I am, but what point does
comfort serve in our lives? I’m reading The
Book Thief and watched Saving Private
Ryan for the first time this weekend, thinking of the horrors and sacrifice
of war, of other mothers’ sons being sacrificed to war. In one particular scene, a wounded dying soldier calls for his mother and his last thoughts turn toward home. In a world that breeds mindsets that destroy and hate, my comfort seems besides the point.
In Eric Metaxas’ wonderful biography on pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer who was arrested and eventually executed for an attempted plot on the life of Adolf Hitler, Metaxas tells how Bonhoeffer’s comfortable upbringing often returned to him as a solace during his imprisonment. Bonhoeffer grew up in the midst of a warm, loving, musical and educated family and those moments fashioned him into a man with great strength, courage and morality. In one letter home to his parents Bonhoeffer wrote: “Spring is really coming now. You will have plenty to do in the garden. I hope that Renate’s wedding preparations are going well. Here in the prison yard there is a thrush which sings beautifully in the morning and now in the evening too. One is grateful for little things, and that is surely a gain.” His mind turned to beauty and thankfulness despite his surroundings. Probably his comfortable upbringings served as a resting point in his life. And is it bad to have a resting place, a stopping point, on a road to making the world more
comforting for others? I can accept that idea of comfort.
comforting for others? I can accept that idea of comfort.
We gave our sons a long resting place to grow and acclimate
slowly to the climate of this world. They learned the hard lessons through school
bullying, cliques, accidents, and sport defeats. But we spared them lots of messes at home. All we have to do is look around at those kids who have grown up without comfort and know that comfortable moments count for much. And hopefully our sons learned to
offer comfort to others in a broken down world.
slowly to the climate of this world. They learned the hard lessons through school
bullying, cliques, accidents, and sport defeats. But we spared them lots of messes at home. All we have to do is look around at those kids who have grown up without comfort and know that comfortable moments count for much. And hopefully our sons learned to
offer comfort to others in a broken down world.
For now, with below zero temps outside, once again I have the
urge to cook – maybe some quiche, maybe some cookies. We’ll pull in, make ourselves
warm with homemade ingredients fresh from the oven and the let the warmth prepare and gird us before we step outside once again to return to it all.
urge to cook – maybe some quiche, maybe some cookies. We’ll pull in, make ourselves
warm with homemade ingredients fresh from the oven and the let the warmth prepare and gird us before we step outside once again to return to it all.
I highly recommend the book Cooked by Michael Pollan! He talks about the value of cooking in a fast-paced world where efficiency is the prized commodity. I have no doubt that those moments around the table are sealed in your sons' memories, and they provide a solid foundation for them as they go out into the world.
Thank you for your words and the book recommendation, Stephanie!