I Should Count Too...

I realized a couple of nights ago (and was going to write about this subject before other blog post ideas hijacked this one) that I've been in this apartment almost a month and a half and have cooked myself exactly two meals. Yup, just two.

Not that I've been starving at all, friends very kindly had brought by plenty of meals for my freezer and I relished every last one of them. They were truly a blessing when it was hard to even keep my eyes open for more than an hour at a time during and following radiation treatment.

However my definition of cooking however doesn't include heating food up, so in truth I really haven't cooked in this time (and I should note that we were treated to truly wonderful meals when we were left without a home for the three months. Talk about overstaying an invitation to dinner!) I love to cook, what holds me back?

One very simple reason. I love to cook for people I love and care for. I discovered many years ago that there was a very important difference for me in those extra words. When  my daughter was with me, it would be time to break out the fresh ingredients and go to town. On the nights that she was with her father, I'd be eating well if I reheated leftovers but it rarely got to that point. Have you heard of kitchen sink meals? I was the queen of them, eat whatever I felt like grabbing out of the fridge and eating it over the sink so I didn't dirty up a plate. There were some very odd combinations to be had over the years!

Then I remarried and I was in heaven. Trips to the grocery store at least every two days to ensure that I had the freshest ingredients possible, scouring my vast collection of cookbooks and taking great pleasure in knowing that I was putting nutritious and varied  meals (in six years there were very few repeats) in front of my beloved family. And as a bonus they indicated their appreciation for my efforts at every turn.

Some who prepare the family meals may take offence at being given kitchen gadgets for Christmas, but I always looked forward to peeking into my stocking. My husband each year would pay a visit to Williams Sonoma to learn about the hottest new items, and described the type of meals I'd cook to the salesperson so that they could point him towards an appropriate section with tools to make food preparation easier and more fun.

Nothing made my heart swell more than to see my family well fed and nurtured in the best way I knew how. I felt useful, goodness knows with having to give up the job I loved and the ability to do many other tasks this was one thing I could still do fairly often. And if I may say so myself, I wasn't half bad at it either.

Sadly, as many of you know my husband left to find another woman to cook for him. Or if that fell through he'd rather do take-out for the rest of his days than have stayed by my side. And I returned to kitchen sink meals.

My dearest friend woke me up to a concept earlier this year that I'm obviously still not clamping on to, but intend to try to move towards. She is often on her own when her husband is travelling abroad for long stretches of time. It would be easy to do the kitchen sink thing, but she with few exceptions will every night prepare herself a proper meal. She'll have likely perused her cookbooks, shopped earlier in the day and set time aside to prepare the recipes without shortcuts. I've been lucky to over the years sample many of her creations; it blows me away that she puts similar effort into her meal whether she's surrounded by loved ones or on her own.

This dear friend values herself and her efforts (and she's been effective at trying to convince me that I should be doing the same for myself). If I care about myself, then I too should be making an effort to feed myself well. It's been a very difficult road to reach even this point, before leaving me my husband told me in no uncertain terms how little he thought of me (and shared his thoughts with many others as I'm finding out more often as time goes on); it's challenging to recover from such a bashing and I'm not sure I ever truly will. But I am trying. Knowing the truth helps (a nod to friends who oft repeated the phrase "the truth will set you free" to me as I plodded through the fall-out).

Now of course meal preparation comes with heavy restrictions. Almost three weeks had passed before I was in a grocery store this past Sunday. Transportation and the energy to shop are the biggest part of the battle. A very tight budget for groceries another, many ingredients that I would have used in the past are simply gone from the equation. Then I discovered as I was making these two meals, the physical strength that I was once had has been severely diminished. I have to come to terms with the fact that although I love potatoes - there will be no more meals that require the chopping of raw ones. It was quite a pitiful sight watching myself trying to cut through a couple of Yukon Golds this week.

Stirring for longer periods of time is now out too (or even keeping an eye on the pot). I tried pulling a chair up but the ergonomics just don't work with this stove, a singed forearm is what I have to show for my efforts.

Where does that leave me? With all the best intentions to look after my nutritional needs better, but lacking the tools to consistently follow through. It's now almost 7 pm, and I'm hungry and tired after a trip to the outside world today to visit the hospice day program. Time to check out the freezer...

Tomorrow will be better.

S - thank you. For everything you do for me,  and mostly for telling me regularly and often that I still count, especially to my two S's. I'll eat better, I promise!
S, I gave birth to - thank you for offering to chop potatoes for me when you're home from school. I  know what potato dish you'd like, I'll make a whole bunch for you with your loving assistance.
J - for making it your personal mission to pack some weight back on me, and for succeeding. Deliciously! (and Happy 25th Anniversary)
K - for trying so hard to make sure I eat well, and not forgetting about the most important food group - chocolate!
D - Dagnabbit, I will own my kitchen again! Thanks for the encouragement last night on the drive home.