Over at TangledLou, she raised some very good questions on loss: the how's, who's, what's, and why's, and challenged us to write about it in 250 words or less. If you don't count this first paragraph, and are cool with the cheating links to read previous posts, here are the thoughts I had this morning in 248 words.
I've written about loss before: the loss of my dad, of a treasured book, of a beautiful bowl, of an idea.
This morning, as I plugged in the toaster (because this blog isn't called Buttered Toast Rocks for nothing) I was pondering on what I could write about, if I should explore a previous idea or think new thoughts.
I reached for the loaf of bread, but came up empty handed. I moved the bags of pears and oranges, the packages of tortilla shells, corn and flour, thinking, hoping, praying for even the crusty end pieces, but nope. No bread, no toast for me.
This then is the loss to share. Suddenly there is a run on bread eating in our house, more lunches are being packed, more egg and PB sandwiches are being snacked on. So I, faithful buttered toast lover, mom to the very core, do without.
This feeling exploded within me when I gave birth to my son, a sense of self-less-ness, where I would go without before I take from my child. My favorite quote is, "When there are four pieces of pie for a family of five, Mom suddenly doesn't like pie." (Tenneva Jordan)
I give of my time, my love, my energy, my very being, and these losses are counted as gains.
But it has reduced me to this: toasting a frozen hamburger bun and calling it buttered toast. It doesn't rock quite as much, but it's still bread with melted butter.