I made an epic pot of vegetarian vegetable soup this morning.
Zest and juice of one lemon
Zest and juice of one lime
Big can of diced tomatoes
Splash of soy sauce
Splash or sesame oil
Splash of basaltic vinegar
Salt and pepper
Our Dutch oven was filled to the brim. Entirely too much soup for the three of us!
Now my plan swung into action. In moments Dear Old Dad and I were running trays with big bowls of soup, fresh rolls and mom’s homemade cookie to our neighbors.
In the end we were left with what you see in the picture. Just enough for the three of us.
It was almost too much joy to process.
2018 has been a nightmare. I lost one of my dearest friends this summer.
C.C. was always so strong and calm, and the last time I saw him, he was unable to feed himself. He gave no sign of recognition. I was just a stranger who happened to be feeding him and washing his face. For twenty years he had always been there for me and my family. I loved him like a brother.
In September Amy died . . . I don’t think I can talk about that. It would take a novel to explain our eight years together. Right now the pain is still too raw. Too new.
To end a year marked with so many partings and so many tears . . . To end such a year with laughter and joy and sharing food . . . I cannot imagine a better way to celebrate the birth of a man who healed the sick and fed the hungry.
I am going to carry the pain of losing Amy and C.C. for a long time. Probably for the rest of my life.
At the same time, I will also carry the happiness of this Christmas Eve – and all that come after it. I will continue to live according to the faith of my forefathers and the teachings of a laborer from Galilee who I know is standing right beside me through every tear and every bowl of soup shared with friends and neighbors.