A meal I made Scott or he made me
I can't remember. We always cooked for each other
After coffee with my sister, today is the first morning I cooked something for myself to eat. Since, Scott died, I've eaten barely a half banana, coffee, and as much water as I can drink (Scott always reminded me to drink water, stay hydrated). Two or three days after Scott died, I ate a cup of noodles (cup of noodles was his easy to go to food). Then I ate a part of the blackberry pie that I bought for us. He loved pie. He always reminded me that he didn't like cake, he liked pie.
I didn't think about eating any of these things. They were the only food items, I was drawn too. Oh that's right, Scott always had to have bananas. It was a staple.
That's the thing, I don't think, I'm just guided to what I need. Whispers and nudges. Whispers and nudges letting me know what to do next.
I haven't cooked since Scott died. I made him breakfast for lunch the day he transitioned.
This morning, I wanted to eat real food. I had a craving for an egg sandwich. I got the frying pan, turned up the flame, added some butter, pulled the parmesan cheese from the frig to add to the top of the egg, I toasted an english muffin. As I sat down to eat my breakfast with a glass of water, I realized this is what Scott ate every morning. An egg sandwich. He made them himself at six am.
I rarely ate egg sandwiches in the morning, unless we were on the road. The eggs were always too rich for me. Eggs were a brunch item. I had my coffee and something sweet, a muffin or a piece of toast when I got up.
Breakfast was the one meal we didn't share. We always sat together for lunch and dinner. Scott insisted and I agreed to share our meals together. It was a time we could talk and enjoy our food together. Rarely, did we miss a meal together.
The second date I had with Scott, was the next day after we just met. He called and asked me if I would meet him while he was on his lunch hour at a local park. Excited to see him so soon again, I made us lunch and brought it. I loved making him lunch. From that day forward, I made him lunch every day and brought it to him on his lunch break for a couple of months until he quit that job and moved in with me.
Scott cooked for me too. He cooked making something out of nothing. I would look in the frig and cabinets and say "there's nothing to eat". Within an hour, Scott made something good and there were more than a few times, he made something outrageously good from nothing.
That's what Scott could do, he didn't need much to make it good.