Went to see The Boy this weekend, for a lovely lazy weekend of cuddles and eating (for those of you who don’t know, I’m in a long-distance relationship with The Boy and see him once a fortnight). On the train home, I found a magazine and started flicking through the articles. I came across one that was so heart-breakingly beautiful; the full article is here, but here’s an extract:
“Sara would never have believed it. After more than 50 years of trying very hard to prove I could do no more than scramble a couple of eggs – and then doing it in the most unorthodox way possible – I am learning to cook. More than that, I’m giving dinner parties for which I have done all the cooking, for the first time in my life. And I’m 78 years old.
Frankly, I can’t believe it myself. Sara used to say she didn’t mind giving dinner parties if I helped. So I promised to lay the table. We stopped having dinner parties.
This is part of another fact I can’t believe. For the past year, I have been alone. After 52 years of marriage, there is no Sara to say I am useless in the kitchen. No way for me to tell her that at last I have done the seemingly impossible. In fact, no Sara at all. She died in May last year and life is not only different, it is horrifically changed. Learning to cook started as a means of keeping away from the scrambled eggs, too much bread, and fish and chips from the place over the road. It was my children’s idea. They have been suffering, too. But my own void is wider and more terrible than it is within my power to explain.”
It goes on to describe an ordinary but wonderful relationship between Michael and Sara, and how Sara’s death has prompted Michael to learn to cook.
I nearly cried.
When I got home, I decided to cook. Well, bake; I hardly need another meal after the weekend of eating that I’ve just had. So I picked a tea loaf recipe from the Internet which is described as nearly fat free. The Boy doesn’t drink tea so I always arrive home a little tea-deprived (the first time I went to visit, I had to buy my own mug).
So, the tea loaf is in the oven and should be ready to share with my housemates when they get home; perfect comfort food to take my mind off missing The Boy. Fingers crossed that our relationship can be as wonderfully ordinary as Michael and Sara’s in the future. For now, there’s tea and cake… and that will do just fine.