It’s Sunday night. I’m sitting on the bed, in the room that has been “home” for the last 9 months. I have the overhead light on because I have my laptop plugged into the outlet usually reserved for my bedside lamp. Not that it’s dark in here. Not yet. In fact, it’s still light outside. I can see it seeping through the slits of the verticals. It’s a soft sunset tonight. I can tell.
I went out over an hour ago for a walk. My bone building walk. After I cooled down, after a not uplifting conversation with my distant other half, I decided to fix myself something to eat. Yes! I’ve made progress in the weight department – up to 106 lbs. Woohoo!
I don’t often buy meat but when I was in the store a couple of weeks ago I spotted a package containing 3 little steaks. Boneless, red, oval. I took them home. This evening, God forgive me, I put one of them in a frying pan. It is my only option. After keeping an eye on the tiny piece of protein and when it was cooked as well as could be expected, I put it on a small plate. Not the dinner one. The salad one. Or did they used to call it the desert plate? At any rate, small steak on plate, I headed back to “camp”.
I’d been sitting on the left side of the bed.(left, as in looking towards the bottom of the bed). In my other TimeLine, I’d be sitting on the right side. The right side had been my side. Huh….. anyway, back propped by 4 pillows, the wall served as headboard. The laptop was in front of me. A minimum of 2 books, a couple of magazines, a pen, some paper were strewn beside me. Table set.
I put the plate on the bedside table to my left and situated myself. Ok. Computer screen at 12 o’clock, right leg straight out, left leg curled in. Half Indian style I guess. Anyway, I set the plate on the bed directly in front of myself, moved the computer a little closer and dug in. Yeah, it was a little tough but hey, I’m just eating it to get the benefits, yo.
Almost immediately, I slowed down (seems I was a bit hungry) and decided to cut the few pieces I’d already cut into yet smaller pieces. I did this….slowly. Deliberately. Suddenly my thoughts were totally of my Dad. I remembered how, in his later years, he would cut his meat – precisely, in small, bite size pieces. Immediately, I made the concious decision to cut the entire tiny steak before me in this same manner. It felt weird, but not. It made me think of Phyllis and her guest post at the Wakefield Doctrine’s Guest Post Thursday’s Guest Post.
There is no one who will iron and think of me. There is no one to cut their meat and think of me. What in the world, I wonder, will someone think of me. One day.