I love how the rain drops streaking down my solid window pane perfectly match the trail of my tears of my solid…pain.
I am in pain today. Recently, I’ve sheltered others from their storms. I've held others in the rain of their tears. I am there for when people need me to be there for them.
It is blustery, blowy and raining. This is a good thing for a Pacific Northwest Autumn to do— bring rain to the thirsty trees and earth. I mean, I’ve been doing a rain dance for weeks, ya know? Let's go! Rain rain rain, and let the winds of change chime in.
So this afternoon, while watching the rain rain rain, I made tapioca pudding.
A good thing to cozy up and do.
It was my sweet belated Jim’s favorite to make tapioca pudding whenever he needed…well, I don’t know what he actually needed when he made it. There were simply times when tapioca pudding—dark chocolate version—needed to be made.
It was kind of adorable to me—watching him carefully make his magic pudding. Although... It wasn’t as if he made the nurturing concoction with intent to share. Nah.
He would carefully craft the soaked-in-advance tapioca pudding, laden with extra-bittersweet chocolate—must have been the healing properties of chocolate. Plus, he’d always use organic whole milk as the liquid base. Which was yummy, I’m sure, but how would I know? I can’t tolerate dairy, full out. So, I couldn’t ever partake.
I would mock-beg him to do a less caffeinated version of this, or use the almond/oat/coconut milk that sat on a nearby fridge shelf so I could share a taste or a bowl or a vat of the yumminess.
But there they were; bowls and bowls of his needed pudding—laid out on our kitchen counter, with “leftovers” placed in our fridge. Mostly though, he would, bite by bite by bite, eat it all in about 2 days, tops.
Of course, it’s a good thing to take care of oneself when one is in need of nurturance, so I never questioned his tapioca ritual, nor asked why he didn’t include me. It's ok. One does not have to be included in every aspect of one’s beloved’s life and habits.
But the thing is…
Of course I was damn included! I watched him make it, and smelled the chocolate, and cleaned up the pots and bowls afterwards. I was a part of the ritual, but mainly in the background. Yet that’s what religious acolytes or guardians of a sweat lodge do: They make sure that whatever ingredients and objects are necessary to the ritual (tapioca pearls, chocolate chips, milk) are at hand. They ensure that the initiate/priest/spiritual seeker or seeker of goodness are supported to do what he or she needs to do.
Wow. Sigh. The rain brings out both reverie and mystical realizations.
I needed tapioca today. My sadness required fulfilling that prescription.
So I made MY version: dairy free with coconut milk, and a splash of vanilla and amaretto. I've already ate the two small bowls while I typed this out.
And I've cried with the tears on my window pane.
Come on, sing it with me…
“You can't always get what you want.. (ie: my belated hubby being here with me to enjoy my version of tapioca pudding)…but you get what you need (dairy free, delicious pudding to enjoy on a rain and tear streaked day).