This past week I had to take my mom to the doctor. You see, she’s in her early eighties (just a kid) and although in pretty good shape, during a routine check-up they discovered a blockage in her carotid artery. Being a tough woman who had two bouts with cancer and thankfully won them both years ago, my mom said it was probably no big deal.
So early the morning of her follow-up appointment I went to pick her up. Since we had plenty of time, I asked her if she ate breakfast yet. When she said no, I offered to make it for her. I rummaged through her refrigerator and chopped up some veggies, added some cheese that was one step away from a science experiment and made her a big fluffy omelet. As I was making it, she kept watching me with a smile on her face. I toasted up some rye bread, put on a pot of coffee and we sat down to eat.
I couldn’t believe how relaxed she was as we sat there eating knowing when we were done we were meeting with her thoracic surgeon. I wondered, “How can she be so calm and easy-going?” As we were eating, she reminded me that years ago she remembers me making her breakfast before she went to the her cancer doctor. During that visit she found out that the surgery and radiation treatment was a complete success and she was cancer-free. She figured that me making breakfast for her this morning would also bring her that same good luck.
Well, within the hour we were at the doctor’s and after reading the x-rays and doing a thorough exam he said she was good to go and he should do another follow-up appointment in 6 month. She sat there for a few moments, with a sigh of relief. As we were leaving, she said how lucky she was but went on to share that she knew everything would be okay. On the way home, she accredited the breakfast as what gave her the courage. It wasn’t the eggs or the well-aged cheese but the comfort that came with it. Making my mom happy by simply making her breakfast made me feel better — and the good news from that appointment will be something we will hopefully share for many more years to come.
Do you have a memory of a time when food comforted you? Maybe it’s eating a pint of Haagen-Dazs right out of the tub or eating fresh-picked tomatoes from the garden. I would love to know, so please share.