Weeds for Dinner

Some time ago, I wrote about taking the "Long Walk Home". The post was inspired by a Springsteen song, and to me, it was about rediscovering myself in light of the divorce, rediscovering myself despite my past, my upbringing, my fears and rediscovering myself in order to share the light of my soul with my children and those around me.

Last year, on March 7th, I stood next to my brother Jeff at a Springsteen concert. It was just him and me, me and him and about a dozen Budweisers each. We sang, temple to temple, at the top of our lungs throughout the entire concert. In the last few songs, Springsteen was winding down (which means that everyone was screaming, sweating and smiling), and he started in with the song, "Long Walk Home." I was still very fragile from the divorce (my glass heart was shattered, if I'm honest) and the first line of the song is: Last night I stood at your doorstep, trying to figure out what went wrong, you just slipped something into my palm and you were gone (I always envisioned his wedding ring being slipped into my palm...)Anyway, when the song began, the tears welled up and I started to cry. And Jeff glanced at me, did the double-take and then put both his arms around me and hugged me hard, and the look in those brown eyes was so full of love for his little sister, such concern, such compassion - and like the brother he was, he held me - his big, ape-like arms wrapped around me - during the entire song. After a while, the tears dissapated, my heart was full of love, and Bruce did his job. The moment had passed.

Today was a rough one. Rough. I talked with my brother Jim, heard the anger and sadness in his voice and my heart broke again. I talked to my parents - each, in turn - and again, my heart broke. For them. It broke for them. Not me.

Tonight, it broke for me. Again.

I was outside with the kids. Paige was home from school for the second day in a row (poor baby had the flu), and because it was so nice out, and because she was feeling better, I put their jackets on them and compelled them to spend some time in the sunshine with me. We took a walk, exploring. Right in front of the barn there are weeds growing through the "pavement" and Tony began to pick them, and Paige began to dig them up with her little shovel. I just watched, not really caring. But then I looked down and saw a monster of a dandelion - it was as big as my head, no flowers, just big leafy greens. I thought, "Umm... dinner." So I picked it, still talking with my mother and told her that I was having a dandelion salad for dinner. I ran up the stairs, soaked the weeds in cold water and salivated over the thought.

When it was time to actually think about dinner, I asked Tony if he wanted pasta, and he said, "I thought we were having weeds for dinner tonight?" He was so serious, and so trusting of my cooking abilities! I, of course, made the pasta for him and the dandelion salad for myself. He tried it though - loved the olive oil & red wine vinegar but wasn't so fond of the weeds themselves.

It was delicious and I thought of Jeff the entire time I ate it. One, because when he visited in October, he bought the bottle of olive oil & red wine vinegar (I just happened to be out), and two, he gave me that weed to pick. I haven't had a "wild" dandelion salad in 15 years - never even thought of picking one out of my backyard - but today, it was all I wanted. It took me back home - back to the house on Shirley road - in the backyard, picking dandelion leafs with Jeff, then shooting hoops with him, swimming in the pool, drinking beer, sneaking beer, playing video games, playing trucks, going fishing, playing baseball, hide and seek, football, grape wars, high school pranks, laughter... it took me back home with my big brother.

And it broke my heart.