My lunch companion, provided by Sandra’s Restaurant
I’ve got company in this Louisiana cafe: scattered thoughts, a bit of self pity, cold chicken, hot coffee, and a bright cloth flower.
I’d like to have a poem for lunch, but nothing gives.
I linger on the thought of chocolate cake. I’m planning on making a gluten free cake in a mug at the next stop. I let desire for this decadence escape into my emotions. A need is born, American style.
My best friend has skin cancer. She’s matter of fact, as if discussing a pile of dirty dishes or meeting at the park. I only remembered again just now, at a glass table, soothed by natural light, in the hippie section of town.
The other night I told my mother about someone else with cancer, a friend from high school. My mom is quick, ready with a touch of humor. She says it’s all the rage now. She was in the infusion bay at the time, chemo dripping into her body.
I need two hands to count the number of people I know/am related to who are being treated to be rid of cancer at present.
I should stick with thoughts of chocolate cake and forced poetry.
-to be enjoying alone time while my husband hangs out with the boys
-my mom’s recent scans showed improvement, hope of recovery, and that her oncologist was sincerely pleased
-the restaurant/health food store I’m in is pretty
-to be almost done with my part of the first draft of a gluten free recipe book for basic baked goods
-to have driven through southern Oklahoma and southern Texas near the border where I was reminded that sadness can be a place, which increased appreciation for other, more beautiful places I could easily take for granted
-for time and quiet space to get these handful of thoughts written down
Beyond this exercise in mind clearing, I feel a smile beginning to bloom. Thank goodness.