Once again I find myself writing in the wee hours of the morning. This has always been my most creative time of the day, so I suspect this will be when I do much of my writing. The house is quiet. I have my cup of tea, Tazo Organic Chai tonight, and I am alone in my thoughts.
I was thinking about my dad today. When I was a kid, my dad could cook two things, SOS and salami & eggs. For the uninitiated, SOS is ground beef in white sauce served on toast. Apparently it was something he had picked up during his days in the Air Force. I picked it up from him. The other dish was just salami browned in pan with scrambled eggs.
The reason I was thinking about him is that today my breakfast and lunch were variations on those two dishes. Breakfast was biscuits & gravy which first cousin to SOS. Lunch was my take on salami & eggs. In my case, it was smoked bologna sauteed in butter and olive oil with some butter cheese from the Amish market mixed with scrambled eggs.
If he were alive, I would have called him to tell him. It is funny that I still remember his cooking abilities from when I was child, because later in life he became a very fine cook.
Speaking of fine cooks, my wonderful wife made meatloaf and mashed potatoes for dinner. When I was a child, I thought I didn’t like meatloaf. It turned out that I just didn’t like my mother’s meatloaf. My wife has elevated the simple meatloaf into true cuisine. Tonight she made it with Kobe beef which took it to a whole new level. Her mashed potatoes are legendary in our family, so I don’t think I need to say more than that. Dinner was just her way of welcoming me home from my trip to Sarasota, and it was welcome indeed.
I was thinking about my dad today for another reason. There have been many times in my life where I found myself unknowingly, or at least unconsciously, following in his footsteps. It’s not that we led parallel lives by any means, but rather the paths we took crossed more times than can really be considered coincidence. This wouldn’t be noteworthy if it weren’t for the fact that my dad and I seldom talked and often went for years without talking. Those times when we did talk, we would both be surprised by how many experiences we had in common.
Once again, I realize I am walking down a path he took. My dad loved small towns. He really embraced small town life. He was active in his condo association. He was active in local organizations. He was active in his temple. He was fully a part of his community, and that was something he seemed to take great satisfaction in.
For my own reasons and in my own way, I find myself walking this path. I am embracing and appreciating this small beach town where I live in ways I never have and frankly thought I never would. I always had bigger ambitions. Originally, the move here was one dictated by circumstances and I considered it a step toward something and somewhere else. I never expected to be here this long, nor did I expect illness would change my perspective so drastically.
Chronic illness has made my world smaller, and being in a small town allows me to be comfortable in my surroundings. I don’t have to contend with crowds or traffic or long distances. Everything I need is just a short drive away. Well, everything except medical care. Hence my trip this past week to Sarasota. A few days every couple of months, I go out of my comfort zone to see my doctors. I do my best to keep things small while I am there, but for those few days, I am out of my element.
I suppose a move at some point to Sarasota would make sense. It is also a small town, but it really isn’t like here. There are more people, more traffic, more of everything. It would really be a challenge to find some place there where I could put together the same kinds of things I built for myself here. Just the move itself seems insurmountable right now, but at some point being this far away from medical care could become untenable. Fortunately, that is still a problem for another day.
Until then, I am going to enjoy what is around me and the life I have here.
Live well.
