Anatomy of an Accident

I’ve been staring at a computer screen for most of the day. One of the tabs is an essay for a workshop I’m co-hosting, another tab houses the guided journal for kids I’m creating. There’s a Google doc open with notes for a cookie recipe I’ve been working on. I’m actively making plans with friends as I type this to host them for dinner tomorrow evening. I lost track of time earlier this morning after failing to set a reminder to come up for air, for a breather, to take Boo to the dog park as I intended. Last minute plans to take Moonie to another specialist appointment tomorrow morning.

Google: anti-diet pediatricians Denver

Google: can you die from guilt?

Google: children bone density scan

I get a message on Instagram about garlic olives from a friend. I receive a call from the psychiatrist’s office that my PCP sent a referral to after another failed medication adjustment per my request. I don’t like lacking executive function and I also dislike feeling like I will crawl out of my skin and I also don’t want to make any sudden movements for fear that my precariously stacked world-of-toothpicks will crumble in an instant and then I realize it already has. I leave a message. I eat Nut-Thins out of the box and have a work-non-work call. I drop underwear off at the post office today since it was closed yesterday because instead of giving land back we give holidays that nobody asked for or wanted but it is supposed to make us feel better and most institutions don’t care about impact.

Google: where to find the most juniper shrubs in Colorado so that I can harvest some branches for saining sticks and I promise to leave an offering behind. Google: fat-positive books for kids

I poke around the freezer to assess my options for tomorrow’s dinner. I think I’ll make the bread, the crusty bread, that Moonie likes because that way I can take her a PBJ for her to eat since she can’t have breakfast before her appointment. I worry that I will feel guilty about how hungry she will be come 9 when she’s used to eating breakfast at 6:30 most days and decide I already do so best to not let it bleed all over everything in the meantime so I pack it away with the sandwich. I run my toes across Boo’s side that he has fervently pressed against my legs- an act of affection and comfort-seeking. I promise him I will take him to the dog park tomorrow and he huffs his loud, wild-lipped huff and settles back into my body and into my trust. What is it like to wholly trust with zero expectation in return? Google: can dogs be depressed?

I finally dump out my coffee that has long gone cold, that I have reheated no less than three times, barely touching it after each consecutive reheating because it’s fucking gross but I keep doing it anyways. I stop, not because it’s gross, but because it’s nearing 1 pm and we can’t have that. I think about our upcoming appointment, our couples therapy appointment, which sounds trite today. I don’t know how else to explain it- “couples therapy” I hate how that sounds but I love that we have a couples therapist and attend couples therapy regularly. We have for a year and a half now- we’ve affectionally referenced it as Preventive Care and so it is. I think about how the appointment itself seems out of place this week, this month, last month, at all. It feels like trying to put a bandaid on the skin that hides a bleeding organ. I don’t want to figure out how to stop doing this or accept Anaya doing that while there’s a wound festering in the background but don’t worry because I’ve brought bandaids. I don’t want to try and fix how I feel far from him, how I miss him, how to stay and not go although I have my own history of disappearing acts myself. I don’t want to sort out why I haven’t tasted him or felt his hands reach into my hair or try to articulate the loss the loss the loss when he sleeps in the other room as to not disturb me or Little due to his coughing or describe the scratching sensation that begins when things become mostly logistical between us because what even is that and who even are those people? I don’t want to figure out ways to not feel bothered by his increasing lack of patience that strikes me like the back of a hand. If Anaya has lost patience at baseline the world must have shifted on its axis and yet.

And yes.

andiamstillhereandyouarestillhereandiamhereiamhereiamhere.

I’m not going anywhere.

iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

I search for my chapstick, no the other chapstick, the blue one, the one I prefer. I respond yes, chef to my friend’s reply- she doesn’t eat pork. I tell my ex-husband yes, I will take her to her appointment, that’s fine. Yes, I will feed her after her appointment. No, you don’t need to send her with cash, she’s my kid. No, I won’t take her to Starbucks and if you don’t know why you can ask her and she will tell you because she’s good like that. I light incense and eventually a joint and relish in my crystal ashtray before saying out loud, I really did turn into you and if I settle long enough I can hear her laughing somewhere just barely out of my reach. Anaya sends me an update on his brother along with a photo of Rei donning foot-mask booties that Anaya has put on his feet after clipping his toenails for him. We laugh together via text about the spa day he imposed and between each text we quietly allow the light to diffuse and eventually extinguish.

There you are, I think. I’ve missed you.

I feel closest to you when we are finding bright spots in the fact that you are giving your big brother a pedicure while he lay in a hospital bed going on month-three because even if he wanted to trim his own toenails he can’t. Neither of us can say whether or not he even knows he has toenails anymore. Each time after we’ve allowed ourselves a fraction of light-making I follow it up with a text in the same vein every time.

I know we can laugh/it is silly/that was funny

and

I imagine it is hard/scary/devastating to watch.

to be there. to witness. I love you.

Google: what happens when you stop taking seizure medication?

It isn’t that I don’t have hope for him or me or us. It isn’t that I think that our couples therapy isn’t working. In fact it’s quite the opposite. There’s a level of acceptance required by both of us in regards to us and otherwise right now and that’s that. It isn’t that Anaya is gone from me- it’s that this horrible thing that has kept Rei in varying levels of sedation, in hospital beds, in limbo, is not an open tab or text message but rather the laptop itself that the tabs exist in. That we exist in. This is nobody’s fault, to be clear, it just is.

I am lonely. I am sad. I am overcompensating. I am tired.

Anaya is lonely and sad and overcompensating and tired.

Rei is

Rei is

Rei is.

Here, let me give you an eye mask.

just is.

At least portions of it are temporary.

---

I might not be doing great at the moment but I am a woman of my word and honestly, this was surprisingly good, better than I expected, and the whole house agreed. Who am I to hold out?

Behold-

Little’s (pumpkin-lasagna) Soup in a Pumpkin

8 oz Italian sausage

1 small yellow onion, diced

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 Tbsp tomato paste

1 cup of tomato sauce or crushed tomatoes or if you’re me and have (jarred) marinara from the other night on hand- seriously, something tomato-y. It’s fine. note: have an entire 14 oz can and don’t want to waste the rest? Add the rest, I’m begging you.

1 14 oz can pumpkin puree

4-6 cups chicken or vegetable broth, depending on the texture you’re going for

Whole milk ricotta, choose your own adventure in terms of how much you want. I used half a small container that I combined with chopped parsley, a handful of shredded mozzarella, a smaller handful of grated parm, and salt and pepper. I stirred some in just before serving and garnished bowls with the rest.

A bunch of greens of your choice- I am a Lacinato kale person, myself but spinach or literally whatever is fine (remove the stems if you’re me or don’t)

8 oz of whatever pasta you want to use- broken lasagna noodles, penne, or this Mafalda I had on hand note: I always cook my pasta on the side anytime I make soup. People in my house eat leftover’s for lunch the next day and soggy pasta/rice is a hard pass for me. If this feels fussy to you, fuck it, toss it in towards the end.

Salt

Pepper

A couple sprigs of thyme and/or oregano

A couple bay leaves

Crushed red pepper (optional)

Freshly grated parm

1 lemon

Are you doing the pumpkin? If you are (it is pretty fucking cute and Little was STOKED) you need to preheat the oven to 400, a medium to large pumpkin that you need to clean out really well. Like, really well, no strings left behind. Set it on a foil lined sheet pan, rub the inside down with a bit of olive oil and a sprinkling of salt and let it go for 30-35 minutes.

Tada.

Set a large pot or dutch oven on medium high, add a couple Tbsp olive oil.

Once the oil is hot, drop in pieces of the Italian sausage, spacing them out so they sear and don’t steam.

Let it cook on one side for 3 minutes before disturbing, stirring or flipping.

Flip the sausage, let it go on the other side until it’s no longer pink, another few minutes.

Remove the sausage from the pot and onto a plate, set aside.

If there’s a bit of fat left in the pan, great!

If there is not, add a bit of olive oil, knock the heat down to medium or even medium-low (you know your stovetop better than I do) then add the onion.

Let the onion cook, stirring occasionally, adding a sprinkle of salt once it’s been sautéing for a couple minutes, until it’s soft and translucent.

Add the garlic, crushed red pepper if you’re using, and tomato paste and let it cook until the garlic is fragrant, about 2 minutes.

Add the canned pumpkin and let it cook for a minute or two to incorporate flavors and cook off some of the metallic taste.

Add a sprinkle of salt and pepper.

Turn up the heat to medium-high and add a bit of the broth you’re using, scraping all the bits off the bottom really well before adding the rest of the broth, whatever tomato-adventure you chose, the sausage, herbs, and bay leaves.

Bring to a simmer and then knock the heat down to low- let it go for 20 minutes partially covered.

Add the greens, a sprinkling of salt and pepper, and the juice from half a lemon.

Cover the pot and simmer for 5 minutes or until the greens have wilted.

Remove the bay leaves and thyme/oregano sprigs.

Taste your food! Add a little more lemon if it needs some brightness then decide if it needs more salt.

Stir in some of the ricotta or let people DIY.

Serve with fresh parm, more ricotta, and a little chopped parsley

Biggest love,

AR