Last Meals that weren't meant to be last meals

    The two pictures here recall our last meals with Dad as a family. We didn't know they would be the last, but nevertheless, they were. My actual last meal with Dad was a few days later at his house, where we had homemade burgers, a baked potato and a salad that I prepared for Terry and Dad, the day before we left the beach for home. It was COVID times. Restaurants were not at full capacity and even so, we arrived early, before any chance of crowds. And we went because he'd been cooped up at home for months and we all wanted a bit of normalcy. 

As you can tell by the name of my blog, I believe that food is love. I'll say it again. To me anyway, sharing a meal is an expression of how much I like to spend time with you. It's special. It is, I insist! If you think about it, maybe you'll agree! We eat with those we love or at least, like! We break bread, we often say grace and we do these things in a ritualistic way to show honor and loving care to those closest to our hearts. So I ran across one of these pictures in my memories on social media. I paused and considered how I miss this man who has been gone from this earth for exactly 11 months on the day of this writing. I LOVED seeing Dad enjoy his food! And he had been losing weight and had been a bit more lethargic as the last few months had passed. I saw him in March for his birthday and then in late May, for a trip to the beach to check on him and to share the trip with Jordan and Allie, who wanted to visit Papa. Each time, he was thinner and a bit more quiet. But otherwise, he was Dad - he was happy or optimistic as he put it, but otherwise he was good. So we took him to Martinis one evening, then an Irish Pub near his house (he had Shepherd's Pie) and then to Calabash for their famous popcorn shrimp. Dad ordered a senior fish and shrimp plate and although it took a while, he cleaned his plate!  I remember these days so clearly, because we slowed down, talked, ate, laughed and enjoyed each other. 

I cannot recall what I said to him, other than "I love you". I cannot recall every visit with Dad over these past few years but I know this - I loved this man and he loved me. He loved his 'people'. He just loved us. Here’s my plea to you. Go share a meal with loved ones after reading this. I hope it happens soon. I know you will remember to slow down, and to put your phone down too. Look at the people surrounding you. Indulge in those extra few moments. Do it for love. Do it for the memories. Do it for yourself!