Emotionally Squishy
On sickness, soup, and some unexpected relief.
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Dear friend,
The plague has hit our little cottage and while the other five members of my family have broken free of its grasp, I find myself still under the weather. A deep cough has settled into my lungs, my eyes can barely open to the sunlight coming in the window, and I’m averaging at least three baths per day in an effort to stave away the chills/hot-flashes.
In the middle of one such bath today, I looked up (startled!) to see Juliette hovering over the bathtub. With one hand she was covering her eyes (good on her) and with the other, was reaching out and offering me a plate of peanut butter & honey toast — a slathered, dripping piece of comfort that she had made for me.
Her thoughtfulness brought tears to my eyes and I gladly accepted the sustenance. I ate the toast right there in the bathtub, tears in my eyes, pondering how such a lovely creature came to be under my wing.
Being sick has a way of shutting up a certain voice in my head — and I’m glad to have her quiet for a moment. I'm grateful for the pause — and for the soup that heals me.
