Hubbs always tells me I give too much away. And he’s probably right.
I do. I can’t help it, that’s how I was raised, it’s what was modeled for me from my earliest days.
When someone’s hurting, you help. When someone’s sick, you help. When someone’s struggling, you help.
The thing is, he loved that quality about me, when we met.
Nowadays, I am not so sure.
Yes, he’ll take the accolades that come our way when I do what I do … for others. But I think that, sometimes, he wonders what’s left in there for him. He has a point, and I get what he saying: Save some of you … for me.
But the thing is, it’s not that complicated, convoluted, or otherwise.
It’s actually very simple:
I do what I do because that’s how I cope.
That’s how I cope when I get the news that someone I love is dying, when someone I love is trying to survive divorce, when someone I love needs a reminder that there’s still good in the world. That there are still people who will do for others … if they can.
Cooking up something comforting and lovely allows me to do something when circumstances dictate there’s nothing that can be done.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s not unfeeling.
He’s just never cooked a casserole. 🙂
He’s never experienced another telling him how much they enjoyed what his hands created. How wonderful it was to have home-made loveliness to wake up to. How nice it was to not worry about cooking a meal.
He’s never had someone tell him how they tucked away the last piece of cheese ball to savor late at night after the chemo and through the tears when they could nibble and cry without someone there watching them.
He’s never seen the smiles Heath Bar brownies can bring to a new mother smiling through gritted teeth as a new baby wails in the background.
He’s never known it. Never done it. How could he know?
I can’t blame him, because if you’ve never done it, you couldn’t possibly know that all casseroles call for one readily-available ingredient: kindness.
# # #
I made 2 pans of chicken spaghetti last night .. recipe on my blog 🙂
How do you cope when people you love are hurting? Do you cook, clean, putter in the workshop, drink, smoke, walk, what?
