Day five of this month’s challenge to write a slice of your life each day. I’m finding it hard to find something to write about today. I don’t want to complain about feeling like a worthless teacher, but today I most definitely did. I don’t want to gush over my children because I’m not feeling all lovey dovey today. I’m just feeling blah.
There are some difficult things happening in our extended family right now, and I’m not sure exactly how to process it nor do I want to write in detail about it. It’s really not my story to tell, and it isn’t my place to write about the sadness involved. So, instead, I think of ways to help from afar, but I don’t really know how. When someone is grieving I usually make cookies because I don’t know what else to do, but I want to do something, so I bake.
The cookies I made a couple of weeks ago tasted pretty good, but were extremely dense. The container I put them in felt like it weighed 5 pounds. I followed the directions, well, actually my oldest son followed the directions desperately wanting to help out, but they didn’t turn out exactly I had hoped. My way to show love and support didn’t quite work out as I wanted. And yet I sent them on to be eaten anyway.
I was thinking about what else I could bake again today. Because I don’t know what to do, but I want to do something. Something to lift the crushing weight. Something to ease the pain if only for a moment. Something to show how much love there is even when expressed awkwardly. Something to show support at a time when words of sympathy sound hollow. Something that doesn’t add any more stress or worry. Something. Something. Anything. Even if just a container of heavy, but tasty, cookies.