The Joy Of Losing A Job I Have Loved So Very Much
It appears I’m losing my job.
A job I’ve loved very much.
A job I dreamed of getting for years.
Even though I knew I was the least worthy person in the world.
I didn’t have an ice cube in the desert’s chance of getting.
And yet,
It happened.
Now, it’s going away.
And I am,
Well,
Happy.
Scratch that.
Mark me down as giddy.
The job?
Like you, Dear Reader, it is one of many I juggle.
I am,
Have been,
Will soon not be,
My family’s personal chef.
Short order cook.
Baker.
From the beginning, the kitchen is where I have worked to impress my family.
I said I was unworthy.
That’s an understatement.
That no one asked me to marry them until my late 40’s,
That there was no family to actually cook for.
There was that.
And,
Lest I forget,
I couldn’t cook.
Worse cook ever.
Thanksgiving pot luck?
My mother and sister colluded to make sure the only thing I would touch in the kitchen were the dirty dishes.
About 10 years ago,
At the height of my singleness,
I decided something crazy.
I decided to try.
To take baby cooking steps.
Like a “Food of Dreams,”
Kind of like, cook it and they will come.
The crockpot served as cooking training wheels.
From there, I moved onto food shows, cook books, blogs.
And then to the family that showed up.
The moments around the dinner table where I have watched Husband and our two girls enjoy the food I’ve prepared.
These are some of my happiest.
To have a family, to be able to cook tasty food for them?
There have been more than a few times I’ve had to pinch myself under the dining room table.
How could this be my life?
Here’s the thing, though.
That’s not the only thing that happens around the table.
Many nights sullen teenagers have moped at the table as if sitting across from us parents is a form of water boarding.
Then, the ever-changing reviews of what were their favorite foods as late as last week.
“Did you make this differently?” asked with disapproval.
This one doesn’t like bell pepper.
That one doesn’t like red meat.
Husband wants to stay away from carbs.
This,
I now realize,
Was nature’s way of weaning me from the job I loved.
Our oldest is off to college.
The youngest has a job evenings at the local pizza joint.
There is little reason to cook.
In fact, our pizza kid brings food home to us parents.
How’s that for a role reversal?
Now I can get by with cooking up some eggs for Husband.
Me?
I’m back to my single girl dinner of frozen vegetables or a can of soup.
I also get back chunks of my day.
Room, perhaps, to make another dream come true.
Or, maybe,
Room, just to be.
It is heaven.
This all has me thinking about endings this week, Dear Reader.
Is it possible not all endings are sad?
Even chapters you’ve loved.
A relationship.
A business that it is time to sell.
Even the most delicious meal comes to an end.
I’m thinking it’s not an accident that the final course,
Dessert.
The pushing away from the table,
This is the sweetest course of all.
What is the best job you ever lost? Please share in the comments section below.
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