security blanket

I’m cooking again.  I’m probably cooking too much.  Homemade mac-n-cheese on Friday.  Baked ham on Sunday.  Homemade ham and lentil soup today.  A friend of mine tends to cook when he’s pissed off; another cooks because it relaxes her.  I’m not quite sure why I bother to cook when it’s just me.  I don’t really need all of this food, just for little ol’ me.

It’s hard to shake loose of those childhood memories you know…my parents never made a decent income.  Dad was a university cop; mom was a Christian school teacher who sometimes got paid.  It wasn’t until I was in junior high that she actually started receiving a steady paycheck.  There was one summer…we’d only been in the house a short while, not even a year, and I sensed that things were bad.  Cabinets and cupboards were generally empty (unless you count powdered milk and dried beans).  We never actually went to bed hungry every night (except for the times I refused to eat the lima beans on my plate), but I remember rarely having good things to eat.  There were rare occasions when mom would take us to the little ice cream shack (and it really was a shack) in Gardner, off US 56 Hwy, and we’d get shakes.  She tried to hide it, but even when it was supposed to be a treat, she seemed worried about it.  There were times when I would suffer the company of the bratty neighbor kids so I could get a snack (a slice of American cheese?!  heaven, individually wrapped! I suppose this is why I love American cheese more than any other non-processed cheese in the world, my apologies to France, Greece, Italy, England, Ireland, and Wisconsin).

Cooking is my security blanket.  If I’m cooking, if there’s food in the refrigerator, then I’m okay.  If I’m sad because my phone doesn’t ring or because I spend most nights alone, I cook, and I’m okay.  It’s true that I like cooking for other people, but I think I do it mostly for myself these days as a reminder that there’s no need to panic anymore.


~ by logosamorbos on April 25, 2011.

2 Responses to “security blanket”

  1. I don’t really have anything useful to say in response, but know that I’m sending you hugs from Maine.

  2. Thanks. I don’t feel bad; it was just a realization that there are things in my life that have shaped me. Not all of them need changing, you know? I spend so much time analyzing myself, trying to figure out why I do things and if I need to “fix” something. But this one…not so much. I think I can just love that little girl that used to be so scared all the time. And of course, bake her some cookies now and then. 🙂

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