Nesting combined with child loss seems to equal a lot of tears. ..
Its seems my urge to clean and prepare the whole house for a new baby means having to take on memories head on. Today it was her food.
Jennifer had celiacs disease.. I wasted so much time worrying about how that would be for her as she grew up.. How it would be at school for her, always trying to be prepared for parents bring in unannounced treats and how she would deal with that. Reading about a possible connection between celiac and infertility, imagining how we would find a good gluten free baker for her wedding day.
Days and moments that would never come to fruition.
And the ones I feel guilty for. Frustration over having to read every single label. .. Trying to be sure that the BBQ sauce is gluten free and how hard and expensive it was to keep a dedicated gluten free kitchen.
How I long for those worries and concerns and “stresses”.
Today I tackled all of our food. It started with the fridge.. Just some leftovers from earlier in the week we never got to eating again. .. But then I looked at the pantry and just started. Tony walked in a minute later and I just simply said.. leave me alone.
I was scared he would try to stop me.. or even worse.. comfort me. I knew if he hugged me right then I would come completely unglued and I needed to get this done.
I filled bag after bag.. Crying. Remembering and wishing for her. I found an old advertisement that I had tucked away as soon as I started. A cocoa box I had cut the back off of because the little girl looked so much like her. I have been in that pantry a lot since I did that but never saw it again. I found it as soon as the guilt of replacing of her.. of throwing her away started to eat away at me.
So I kept at it. . So many of the expiration dates were similar. All this food just wasted. Because we became frozen. Like our world just simply stopped turning one day. . Which in reality it did.
Especially for me in regards to cooking and taking care of my family in that way. I still struggle every single day preparing food, especially dinner. Every. Single. Night. I still haven’t stepped foot in a real grocery store since she died.
Jennifer loved food. She enjoyed eating. And I truly enjoyed getting to create things that were safe for her and tasted good. It gave me such a simple boost on a daily basis… I wonder if I will ever be able to get back to that sense of fulfillment from just doing my job.
Because Jonathan starts kindergarten tomorrow.. and a new baby is arriving any day. I need to start taking care of my family the right way again. And that’s impossible with a pantry and garage full of once edible ghosts.
I opened packages of her favorite things and took just one out.. I kept some things in the freezer and the fridge. Because I just need to have some of it here still.. especially the packagers that had been opened for her.. that she ate out of.. That she actually got to enjoy.
But I got rid of so much. So much.
I feel lighter.. and heavier.
I feel cleansed and I feel dirty.
Its strangely disconcerting to have such bare cupboards all of the sudden.. all the basics gone. And all of the specialty foods gone now too.
Now just a little Jennifer section, versus her being part of our entire kitchen. For me to always remember what she loved most.. I couldn’t help but feel like its a little to stash to make sure we always remember she was real and here. Mine. Ours. Because she is my daughter and I just have to always be ready for her.
i miss you.
and your messy faced
…until there is a cure.