TKing Nothing for Granted

The Flavor of Memories:
This week my mental wellness focused on how memories, needs, healing can be attached to food. How it makes me feel and how I allow myself to relate to it. My mom fed us generously, daily, for the entirety of her life. It was her Love Language. I especially loved making meatballs with her. The description of quantities, the thoroughness of the stir, my fingers feeling frostbitten and the sneaky bites of raw ground beef and egg. Even today I can conjure the smell of them baking and the taste of the crispy nuggets of meat left behind on the cooking sheet. And then Mom would drop those delicious meatballs into a huge pot of Ragu, to give it a little extra flavour before topping mountains of spaghetti with what I would call perfection. In absence of mom and moms meatballs, I crave spaghetti and Ragu, constantly. This week is about allowing myself to consider, I crave the Love of my mom and the way I felt when we were together in the good times. The loving moments. The touching memories of cooking together, her teaching me, her welcoming me in the kitchen. I cherish those moments and as an adult, sitting with an overly large bowl of spaghetti and Ragu is my way of sitting in the need for her in that moment. A soft place to fall, a pillar of strength to hold me up for just a few moments when I don't feel strong. Sometimes mom wasn't there for me, when I needed her and those memories hurt, but I have to open up to those as well. As a mom I understand she did her best. Gave her all. And then my mom died before I was ready. The unusual circumstances pain me deeply. These complexities leave me in contemplation of how they impact me as an adult. I want to learn to indulge care free in that "way too big bowl of pasta". A bowl so big I can actually speak to myself about stopping, "don't take any more bites", "ok after this, no more", "just this last bite", feeling fullness but not being able to stop until the bowl is gone. Then I feel bad for not being in control. For eating way to much spaghetti and Ragu. Josh asked me why I couldn't just eat that bowl without guilt, shame, self recrimination. Of course I spoke of gluttony and lack of control and yep, weight gain. He asked me if I could just be ok with letting go for a few minutes, setting aside my need to be the pillar, perfect, in control...and accept I need a pillar and at that moment I choose Ragu, The Flavor of my Memories. In those moments I'll now ask myself, do I need help, shall I reach out for strength? Or do I just need a Ragu day and can I just be ok with it? I imagine the answer will be different on different days. Asking for help is not my forte'. (Surely we'll work on that.) But this week the question is, What are the Flavors of my Memories? How will I respond to them? Can I let go and just remember?