My kids never did wonder or ask? How I learned to hide food? And why we did it? From each other?
Well? Because when I was young I hid food for myself later. Outside where it would be dry? Under the mattress. Crazy places no one ever looked? Like vases? Wrapped in a napkin?
My Mama Jean was raised in the depression. So? She didn’t mean to starve me? That’s just how she felt it was supposed to be? And that would mean her parents starved her to some degree? How does one even know what starvation is if they have never been shown a difference?
And I remember how I used to be? Very small and worked to not eat to much or enjoy myself to much? Food? Was just, fuel. And really. After Mama? And seeing where I came from? It’s like being forced to live with deprived people to see what prosperity is? Much like the prodigal son?
Which means before I was born I signed up to be this prodigal son? To my Mama? That it would feel like she was rejecting me and I would have to get over that? It’s like flipping yourself upside down? And living life like that? Like what’s it like without my parents? Maybe we all need a refresher? Of what we truly are given. I said. I’ll go. I know I won’t fail. All I need is a mustard seed of faith. And I’ll sprinkle them everywhere!! And just plant the last one back in me. I already planted the last one first like a genius. So? I’m grounded to shade all of us? Xoxox.
Would not God give this gift to our Mama? Freedom from her old narrative and ours? To see her a new? With new eyes? For I have forced you to look at me while she worked on herself and removed all her masks. To reveal the soul within. Mother. Splendor.
At the end of the day. It is well with our souls. We showed up. Even if one was born blocked. We dug her out!! The terrific trio.