Alone

I ate lunch alone today.

I don't usually eat alone, but it's just one of those things that happens every so often. I was out way past lunch time, and came home just as everyone was getting busy again. Many of the family members were working outdoors, and those who were inside had projects to work on. It was me and the kitchen table with a bowl of leftover rice.

It may not sound appetizing, but it was pretty good. I mixed mayo and ketchup together and stirred it into the cool rice (my favorite way to eat it!). The first three bites were lovely. I was so hungry, and this hit the spot.

But in just a minute or two, that little bowl of rice seemed like the widow's jar of oil - having no bottom. It was just kernels of grain on a cold spoon. I looked around at the 7 empty chairs and chewed slowly. This was taking forever to eat.

I hadn't really thought about it before - I mean, I've heard folks who live by themselves talk about how food doesn't mean much when you eat alone, but I always assumed I wouldn't have a probably with such a thing. I like food!

I've eaten alone before, but there was always someone in the next room, always chatter flowing around the house, always noise somewhere. Today the house was quiet. I could easily imagine myself to be alone. ...And I did.

You know what? I wasn't hungry anymore. My stomach had been growling for two hours, and I suddenly was having a hard time finishing a little bowl of rice.

This may all sound very depressing...and it was at the time. But five minutes later I was out in the garden, sun hat on, dirt between my gloved fingers, the smell of plants in my nose, and the sound of Justin and Lezley's laughter up in the tree house. Dad worked a few beds away, and I could hear his shovel scraping soil.

The world was good again.

Lesson learned; appreciate my family while I have them.