Saturday, October 4, 2014

The skinny on my complicated relationship (part 1ish)

My mission president reminded me on several occasions I made my life too complicated.
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 Guilty as charged!

Oh the many times he helped me sort out the needless complications I added to life. Thanks President Swain!

I've been sorting out my complicated relationship with food for years, and even with the help of close friends and family, complete strangers, and even professionals, the clarity and peace has mostly come from lots of personal introspection and many long talks with God.

diving into the truly sticky stuff: Amish Sticky Buns
Reading Terminal Market (Philadelphia, PA)
As I grew up food was an important part of my family. There were a number of us kids. That number was 12.

If you wanted a second serving at dinner, you ate fast. Don’t get me wrong, we never went hungry. Ever. There was miraculously always a plentiful supply of crumbly, 100% whole wheat, homemade bread.

My mother is a hero and saint. I cannot think of a greater example of self-sacrifice and tireless work, other than my father. And Christ himself. But there were a lot of mouths to feed. What an expensive and time consuming undertaking. We had a lot of oatmeal, homemade bread, and potatoes, noodles, and rice. Cold cereals were exotic. Pizza from Dominoes was a sensory delight. And sugary snacks? Heaven.

There wasn't a holiday or tradition that wasn't connected to food. And those connections are ingrained in the recesses of my memory and come out in involuntary responses to everything I experience.

Name a season or holiday or place, I’ll give you a food.

Example: It’s the first day of Fall and the trees are turning orange and yellow in Provo Canyon, the air is brisk and ripe with the smell of wet, fallen leaves. I think of Ivan’s Spice Wafers with apple cider to wash them down.

Christmas Eve? Lasagna and whole milk.
Easter? Hand dipped chocolate pretzels and coconut candies.
Pool? The generic brand of Cheerios mixed with raisins.

Everything good and happy in my childhood is connected to distinct food combinations. Sounds wonderful, right?  Makes sense since the diet sustaining me had rare but exhilarating variance, especially when my mysterious health struggles cropped up and restricted my food consumption in many highly undesirable respects.