Brie

Posted by on Jan 17, 2013 in Heartfelt | 16 comments

I bought myself a wheel of brie today when I was grocery shopping.  It is mine and I will not share it, my cheese.

I left it on the countertop while I put away the groceries and fed the twins lunch.  As I was cleaning up their plates, I carefully peeled back the parchment that wrapped around the cheese; it had stamped the pattern of the folded paper into the chalky white rind.  I brushed the grooves with my fingertips.

I let the cheese breathe while we sang and snuggled, tickled and giggled.  I changed their diapers and we marched up the stairs to nap.

And then I came back downstairs and picked up my cheese and pared one serving from the small wheel.  I placed it on a special occasion saucer and carried it to my comfy chair, then I pulled up “Let It Be” on my Kindle and let the song envelop me and my cheese.

The last week has been too difficult.  People I love have come unmoored in a storm of grief at the loss of a father, a brother, a husband.  The formal process of mourning is exhausting; it wrenched every bit of energy from all of us.  There were so many, many decisions to be made regarding the funeral and burial and the luncheon following the burial.  My husband diverted nearly all of his attention to that process and to the care of his amazing mother.

After the long days of making decisions, there was the marathon ten-hour visitation; five hundred people stopped to offer condolences.  Children in various stages of curiosity regarded Grandpa’s body, from Violet who was largely unperturbed to Milo who was shy and reticent.  Then there was Willa, who insisted on seeing “Gwank-pa” and the flowers over and over and over.  She kept asking “Eyes?” to see if he would open them, kept saying, “Mou?” because she thought that there was something not quite right with the stillness of his mouth.

The funeral, the burial, the luncheon.  Gathering, hugging, holding, good-bying.  At every stage, more love, more comfort and much reminiscing.  All followed by a hollow and penetrating exhaustion, exacerbated by a sick toddler who refused to sleep for nearly an entire night unless she was cradled in my arms.

I find myself flagging, utterly spent.  My every molecule is screaming for respite, begging me to lay down and drift away on the gossamer wings of sleep.  But real life continues even though death has paid a social call.  Life as we know it may have screeched to a halt, but the world keeps spinning cock-eyed on its axis.

So I bought the cheese for myself today and sat in my chair to eat it.

I lifted the brie, touched the rind gently with my teeth, bit in slowly to savor its tugging resistance, letting the creaminess of the center melt into my tongue.  For one suspended moment, there was peace born in the affinity of The Beatles and brie.

I’m linking this post to Write at the Merge, where the prompts this week were the words gossamer and affinity. Check it out for some really cool stuff!

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16 Comments

  1. Write on Edge January 17, 2013

    There are so many aching details in this, the ways a funeral and the surrounding events bring out different things in people and how it can be so difficult to truly grieve in the presence of children. Then the small moment of peace found in a beloved song and a perfect bit of cheese. Great job!
    ~Angela
    Write on Edge recently posted..Literary Anthology Policy UpdatesMy Profile

    Reply
    • IASoupMama January 23, 2013

      Thank you — the song and the cheese were exactly what I needed.

      Reply
  2. Samantha Brinn Merel January 17, 2013

    Grieving is such a complicated process. I’m glad that, even though you are exhausted and spent, you took some time to do something for yourself that made you feel good. Keep doing that over the days and weeks ahead. Every day gets just a little easier.
    Samantha Brinn Merel recently posted..Own Your Guns, But Lets Have Some Limits PleaseMy Profile

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    • IASoupMama January 23, 2013

      Thank you. I’m in it for the long haul, so I’ve got to take care of myself as I go, right?
      IASoupMama recently posted..The AssassinMy Profile

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  3. Stacie @ Snaps and Bits January 17, 2013

    I am so glad you got some me time during this difficult period. Brie is so good – I might have eaten the whole wheel. I love how you savored it. Sending lots of good vibes your way!
    Stacie @ Snaps and Bits recently posted..IV Bag BootMy Profile

    Reply
    • IASoupMama January 23, 2013

      I know — I’ve managed NOT to eat the whole wheel yet, just a piece each day. Go me!
      IASoupMama recently posted..The AssassinMy Profile

      Reply
  4. Helene January 17, 2013

    I’m so sorry for your family’s loss. At the same time, my heart sings for you that you realized you needed some respite and were able to take care of yourself.
    Helene recently posted..Canadian Savers: There’s No Party like a Twitter PartyMy Profile

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  5. shelton keys dunning January 17, 2013

    My deepest sympathies. I’ve lost two cousins, an aunt, and a family friend in the last two weeks. It’s been one funeral after another, and to be honest, I’m willing to skip the rest of January and start February now…

    I know you said it’s your cheese, but if you’re willing to share, I’ll bring a bottle of amazing port and my mother’s sensational hot chocolate.
    shelton keys dunning recently posted..Week 3: WoE Gossamer & Affinity ChallengeMy Profile

    Reply
    • IASoupMama January 23, 2013

      I will gladly share my cheese for a sip of your port and a mug of hot chocolate — my condolences for your recent losses.
      IASoupMama recently posted..The AssassinMy Profile

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  6. Annabelle January 17, 2013

    I’m so sorry. I’m glad you got at least one moment of peace during that wrenching process.
    Annabelle recently posted..FraternityMy Profile

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  7. Kathleen Basi January 19, 2013

    As a culture we don’t like to talk about death in terms of beauty, and yet you have so eloquently captured the beauty that surrounds the process. The details that float around the perimeter make me feel as if I’m actually one of the mourners with you. He must have been an amazing man. My heart goes out to you and all your family.

    Reply
    • IASoupMama January 23, 2013

      Thank you — my father-in-law was amazing and he is very much missed.
      IASoupMama recently posted..The AssassinMy Profile

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  8. Cameron January 21, 2013

    I’m so very sorry for your family’s loss. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful and deeply personal piece with our community. I am always awed by reflections of grief that contain such beauty…

    Reply
    • IASoupMama January 23, 2013

      Oh, thank you. It’s been weighing on me and I couldn’t NOT write about it.
      IASoupMama recently posted..The AssassinMy Profile

      Reply

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