i have heard from a lot of people
that revenge is a dish
best served cold;
a sort of gazpacho,
if you will.
and i guess that makes it sound
(more) like a sophisticated thing
chill and refined
and carefully made
but i think its more like
chicken noodle soup
and good for what ails you
My aunt said that her son was in his room, "waist-high in tissues," but that he would come out in a while, which he did, and he didn't look at me, but he walked to the stove and ladled sou(more)p into a blue mug.
He wasn't a cousin among the cousins, since this aunt had married my uncle later in life, and her son was from her first batch of children, a few years younger than me, but already too old to become one of us by the time we met him. His father's family lives close by, and he spends holidays with them.
His grief is ours now, and this man who is holding a mug of soup is so void of words that everyone else's rush in, and when he is with us the room gets noisy in our efforts to make things right.
His fiancé was 26, and her accident was severe, but not immediately fatal. It was a few days before she died.
There has been suffering in our families for years: people come and go and hurt one another, and there are terrifying illnesses and people have died, but we have mostly felt like we saw them coming, that we were already nauseated before we found anything out. This death had no foreshadowing, and there is nothing good that we can make of it.
Because they were still unmarried, the services were held by her family, her parents and brothers were the survivors, and while my cousin stood with them, everyone knew that he would never stand with them again, that their connection was too painful to celebrate casually. Now we gather in his mother's kitchen, forgetting that we are trying to eat less bread these days.(less)
I hate anything to do with chicken, and anything to do with noodles. We had chickens when I was a kid. I lived with my great-aunt Josie, and she was that kind of hippie. Pre-hippie, really. I mean, there were hippies back in her day, but they weren't on(more) TV yet. Great-aunt Josie was before Laugh-In, but not before Jack Kerouac. But she was before hippie went big-time, went mainstream. She never would've called herself that. If she was around these days, I could see her identifying with the whole "off the grid" thing, but never a hippie.
So yeah. Ate a lot of eggs growing up--that was what was around. Ate a fair number of chickens too. But wasn't into them then, and I totally steer clear now. My girlfriend buys eggs, and you know if she's making lasagna and there's an egg in it, that won't stop me from eating it, but I'd never buy them. Or put them in anything. Ick. Think about it--eggs are really weird.
Anyway. I wouldn't say I feel the same way about noodles, but there is a comparison there, for sure. Noodles aren't weird to eat the way chickens or eggs are--after all, they're made to be eaten, which chickens and eggs just aren't really--well, they sort of are, I guess, but not in the same way. But noodles are weird to eat in lots of other ways. Enough about that.(less)