This morning I was busy cooking up a pot of oatmeal for Jim. He's been sick, I've been sick so the meals have devolved into the very basic, like soup, apple slices, apple sauce, oatmeal and crackers. Not the healthiest but just what I can manage in the right now.
It's another reason I haven't updated in a few days. I'm in survival mode right. Just did laundry for the first time in weeks yesterday.
While I was stirring and waiting for the oatmeal to thicken I started thinking about all those years I faithfully cooked oatmeal for my eldest child for breakfast in my single years. I came out of my brief marriage with little idea about nutrition and little money, but the oatmeal wasn't about the money. It was about the emotion of love. I always felt loved when my mother made hot oatmeal with heavy cream and a sprinkle of sugar for me when I was sick, which was a lot with my asthma.
To me, cooking oatmeal every morning for my small daughter was something I did because I cared, I loved her enough to want her to eat something hearty and nutritious before she started her day. I wanted to make her something that I felt like was important to do for her, a small loving act of sacrifice. A living act of love towards someone I love deeply.
I don't remember what I ate for breakfast as a child. I don't remember eating breakfast as a kid. I might not have as I've never been a person that likes to eat in the morning, I still don't. But I do remember the feeling of love and cheerfulness in that wood paneled kitchen of my childhood surrounded by my loved ones.
Later I ended up keeping cold cereal for breakfasts for my younger kids, just because life was always short on time in my later mothering years. I don't know what my other kids think about breakfast when they were kids but I hope it's mostly positive.
One of the things I've been dealing with this week is finding out that some of the actions I took out of love for various people, many not family members, has been completely misunderstood and ascribed to motives I never once had.
Learning that others can oh so easily mistake the why of your actions and tag them differently has been thought-provoking. Never assume that others know what's behind your daily loving actions. But don't let that stop you from continuing to do them either.