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December 19th, 2012
I get so angry at times, about my life when I take the time to sit back and contemplate about my losses. I mean these losses aren't like a sports team that loses a Super Bowl or World Series game where you have to wait an entire off season to redeem yourself. There is no next year when you experience tragedies in your life. I just can't revamp my life and turn it into championship season the following year. No, when that buzzer goes off and life ceases to go on, it is truly a finale.
My feeling of anger surfaces in the weirdest places too.
For instance, I’m in a grocery store and my anger lies somewhere in-between aisle 6 and 7: The frozen dessert section. I think this overwhelming feeling occurs because I see food Mimie (my wife) and I shared together. The feeling of loss manifests itself from deep in my stomach, and it’s not a tummy ache caused by the excess of ice cream.. The pain of loss causes my brain to reminisce about the happiness ice cream brought her. And boy I get upset. I can only shake my head and wish for a better out come, but I realize my reality, and I know I can’t revamp this team.
When you’re with someone for a long time their food, becomes your food, and vice versa. So, when I see the Rigatoni in the pasta aisle 4 of our local grocery store, my inner voice begins to laugh hard. I think about how we had just talked about the lack of rigatoni in my life. The thick square pasta, hollowed in middle, is delicious. It just makes me so damn mad I don't have an interest at looking at it anymore. Where is there a time-out when you need one. I wish a scientist could invent a pause button for a real life situation.
I work my way to the potato chip section, aisle 12. I was never a person who picked at chips because of boredom, but Mimie on the other hand, loved the salty chip as a late night snack. I use to brag that I could "only eat just one." I wasn't the type who craved the thinly sliced .007 inch chip. I didn't crave the potato that was deep fried in oil at approximately 375 to 400 degree Fahrenheit. I didn't notice the lightly brown salted rough surface, as being any type of delicacy. Not that I would know much about chip making.
I shake my head when I look at the plethora of chips before me resting on these grocery shelves and I fondly remember her telling me, "There is nothing like a chip from a freshly opened bag. Of course I'll grab a bag of Lays and I will savor the first bite, while riding the bench by resting on my couch. I'm not a couch potato, one that’s subjected to eating chips while watching a big game, I just want to find some comfort.
I push the shopping cart to the cereal section, aisle 6. I quickly take notice of the Special K with Red Berries. I recall how I didn't like the cereal when she first bought it. I thought the freeze dried strawberries were a little too sour for my taste buds. But now I am gravitating to the box with the large K on it. I enjoy it so much, with a packet of Splenda sprinkled on it. Mimie enjoyed it while she shared a bowl with my youngest son, Christopher. I think it's time to have a super big bowl with my sons.
I mosey on over to the meat section and bypass all the red beef while heading to the boneless chicken breasts section. We ate mostly chicken, but every now and again she would surprise me with a large steak. She would always cut it in half and give me the large portion while she would nibble on a small portion of her own. I wasn’t too picky about the type of meat she served and she always had it ready to eat when I got home, like a hurry up offense of a football team.
I then move over to the frozen food on isle 14. I want to choose pre-made pasta in a bag. The thing we loved about this type of frozen meal is that all you have to do is place the contents of the bag into a skillet and the food cooks up real quick. I think it’s better and faster then any thing Rachel Ray cooks up in her 30 minutes.
I look through the different flavors and take notice of the ones we both liked when I realize the bag reads, “dinner for two.” I know my sons (Nico the oldest at 4 and Christopher, the youngest at 3) won't eat any of these, so I call an audible, or change of play, and I just move past this section all together.
I go to aisle 5 and pick out some diet soda. I pick the Coke Zero. I laugh when I see the Dr. Pepper. I fondly remember how I always thought that only girls drank Dr. Pepper. My wife loved it and she would stash it in the house so she could get her fix when she desired it. I never understood why she put it out of sight. She never had to worry about me sneaking a can or two. I think I'll buy the 6 pack for tonight. I’ll place one soda in the batters box so it will be ready to drink when I want to wash down my chips.
https://twitter.com/FusaCmee
Left to right: Christopher and Nico at Pro Bass Shops
December 19th, 2012
I get so angry at times, about my life when I take the time to sit back and contemplate about my losses. I mean these losses aren't like a sports team that loses a Super Bowl or World Series game where you have to wait an entire off season to redeem yourself. There is no next year when you experience tragedies in your life. I just can't revamp my life and turn it into championship season the following year. No, when that buzzer goes off and life ceases to go on, it is truly a finale.
My feeling of anger surfaces in the weirdest places too.
For instance, I’m in a grocery store and my anger lies somewhere in-between aisle 6 and 7: The frozen dessert section. I think this overwhelming feeling occurs because I see food Mimie (my wife) and I shared together. The feeling of loss manifests itself from deep in my stomach, and it’s not a tummy ache caused by the excess of ice cream.. The pain of loss causes my brain to reminisce about the happiness ice cream brought her. And boy I get upset. I can only shake my head and wish for a better out come, but I realize my reality, and I know I can’t revamp this team.
When you’re with someone for a long time their food, becomes your food, and vice versa. So, when I see the Rigatoni in the pasta aisle 4 of our local grocery store, my inner voice begins to laugh hard. I think about how we had just talked about the lack of rigatoni in my life. The thick square pasta, hollowed in middle, is delicious. It just makes me so damn mad I don't have an interest at looking at it anymore. Where is there a time-out when you need one. I wish a scientist could invent a pause button for a real life situation.
I work my way to the potato chip section, aisle 12. I was never a person who picked at chips because of boredom, but Mimie on the other hand, loved the salty chip as a late night snack. I use to brag that I could "only eat just one." I wasn't the type who craved the thinly sliced .007 inch chip. I didn't crave the potato that was deep fried in oil at approximately 375 to 400 degree Fahrenheit. I didn't notice the lightly brown salted rough surface, as being any type of delicacy. Not that I would know much about chip making.
I shake my head when I look at the plethora of chips before me resting on these grocery shelves and I fondly remember her telling me, "There is nothing like a chip from a freshly opened bag. Of course I'll grab a bag of Lays and I will savor the first bite, while riding the bench by resting on my couch. I'm not a couch potato, one that’s subjected to eating chips while watching a big game, I just want to find some comfort.
I push the shopping cart to the cereal section, aisle 6. I quickly take notice of the Special K with Red Berries. I recall how I didn't like the cereal when she first bought it. I thought the freeze dried strawberries were a little too sour for my taste buds. But now I am gravitating to the box with the large K on it. I enjoy it so much, with a packet of Splenda sprinkled on it. Mimie enjoyed it while she shared a bowl with my youngest son, Christopher. I think it's time to have a super big bowl with my sons.
I then move over to the frozen food on isle 14. I want to choose pre-made pasta in a bag. The thing we loved about this type of frozen meal is that all you have to do is place the contents of the bag into a skillet and the food cooks up real quick. I think it’s better and faster then any thing Rachel Ray cooks up in her 30 minutes.
I look through the different flavors and take notice of the ones we both liked when I realize the bag reads, “dinner for two.” I know my sons (Nico the oldest at 4 and Christopher, the youngest at 3) won't eat any of these, so I call an audible, or change of play, and I just move past this section all together.
I go to aisle 5 and pick out some diet soda. I pick the Coke Zero. I laugh when I see the Dr. Pepper. I fondly remember how I always thought that only girls drank Dr. Pepper. My wife loved it and she would stash it in the house so she could get her fix when she desired it. I never understood why she put it out of sight. She never had to worry about me sneaking a can or two. I think I'll buy the 6 pack for tonight. I’ll place one soda in the batters box so it will be ready to drink when I want to wash down my chips.
Shopping in the grocery store is just one little reminder for me of what I lost. And how life can change in an instant. I walk down these food aisle and fondly remember that we shared more then just are lives together but common interests as well. And now, the food just doesn’t taste the same.
I could rebuild this team but I am missing my key ingredient. I would do anything to learn from the seasons that have past and correct the mishaps that occurred that lead to a losing season. But I can’t. The only time-outs afforded in life have already played out and now I can only learn from replay in my mind. Unfortunately, a grocery store isn't in the field of play and now I am only left to try and clean up the mess behind me.
I could rebuild this team but I am missing my key ingredient. I would do anything to learn from the seasons that have past and correct the mishaps that occurred that lead to a losing season. But I can’t. The only time-outs afforded in life have already played out and now I can only learn from replay in my mind. Unfortunately, a grocery store isn't in the field of play and now I am only left to try and clean up the mess behind me.
https://twitter.com/FusaCmee
The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.
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