I woke this morning in a creative and productive mood. I felt optimistic which is a foreign state of being for Sundays and I. Sundays are my wind up days. I struggled against fret and tension. The origin may be anticipating the upcoming week. Or it may be the sensation that it is SUNDAY and I should REST despite having failed to get through what I needed or wanted to finish yesterday. Whatever the reason for my usual dis-ease, I woke this morning feeling positive.
So I made coffee, started breakfast and whipped up a batch of the cookie dough I want for later. The dough has to chill for several hours, so I was pleased to be planning ahead. When I went to the garage to put the dough in the freezer, I discovered the freezer door had been left open all night. A large puddle of water surrounded the open freezer and my soup stocks were liquified and everything had defrosted. Everything. Including all the fresh picked blueberries I had layered on cookie sheets to freeze before packing in Seal-A-Meal bags. I was stunned, immobilized and utterly silenced.
I woke the culprit – my 10 year old – who was last into the freezer the night before getting a Dove Ice Cream bar. It was plain on his face he had no real concept of my distress or the magnitude of his mistake. And it was a simple mistake. He meant no malice. But……..he is responsible.
My Sunday ease evaporated. All my long efforts and plan-ahead industriousness lost by the simple, careless act of a enthusiastic child getting a Popsicle. And it is the loss of time that smacks. The loss of food and the waste of electricity irks me but it is the loss of all my hard work and energy that raises my hackles.
But my larger test is learning to let go of things, learning to let go of the things I cannot hold or keep. Everything in this world is fleeting and transient. The puddle has already evaporated in the heat of the garage. The berries will become banana-blueberry bread, scones and bars. The butter will refreeze. The remaining package of last seasons white acre peas will become soup with the stock and sausage. And now I have an empty freezer for this year’s summer harvest.
The sun rises and sets, the earth revolves, we inhale and exhale and time moves on. Trying to hold onto the tangible things in this world is silly and fruitless. But maybe we grip them so fiercely because we cannot hold the wind or love. All things pass and all things fade. And to love but lose is still better than not loving at all.