Author: Emily

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Grief Bacon

I love bacon.

There, I’ve said it. And I’m not ashamed to admit that the smell of bacon brings back memories of cooking breakfast for my parents when I was in my pre-teenage angst years. You know, back when I was a relatively obedient kid who only wanted to do something nice for her parents.

And the taste …. Oh, the taste! Nothing completes a great breakfast like bacon can. Especially those thick, maple-cured strips that they serve up at Original Pancake House.

I mean after all, there is the saying that nothing can make a vegetarian go pro-meat more than bacon can.

I’m guessing that with all this talk about bacon, you’ve figured out by now that I’m not the healthiest person in the world. And it’s true. I’m hypertensive. I’ve got high cholesterol (no surprise there!). And I’m at high risk for heart disease.

And given the events over the past year, I guess you can say that I’ve been lax at keeping myself healthy. In fact, you could probably say that I went the opposite of healthy. What can I say? I’m an emotional eater.

In fact, I’m not just that; I’m an emotional over-eater. When things get tough or stressful, not only do I munch on chips or chocolate or candy … I over-indulge myself with them. And because of that I’ve gained a significant amount of weight over the past year.

So what does this all have to do about bacon?

Yesterday, at one of Hubby’s work-related events, we had sat with some friends and another couple I had just met for the first time that night. Somehow (and I can’t exactly remember how) the subject turned to bacon. (I mean, really. When does bacon come up in a conversation?!) That’s when I learned that the German word kummerspeck … which is the excess weight one gains from emotional overeating … literally translates to “grief bacon.”

So there you go. Now I have a name for all the weight I’d gained.

But lest you’re worried, Hubby & I have been making efforts to regain our health. First off was joining a gym to make time for some weight training and daily cardio. Second is re-learning to eat healthy again. Third … and this is the most difficult … is maintaining the motivation to keep up with both.

I guess this means I won’t be eating too much bacon in the near future …

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Search Terms

To the guy (or girl) who stumbled on my blog using the term:

“Hot Girl with Only Apron” …

I hope you found what you were looking for! 🙂

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Unsettled

It’s Thursday night. And even though I had the evening I had for myself (knowing that Hubby had prior obligations that kept him from staying in tonight), I find myself with nothing to do.

I had planned on knitting all evening, but didn’t feel motivated to do so. I had also planned on cleaning out the closet and dressers to donate more clothes to the Salvation Army; which I only partially finished. Then I tried my hand at playing some online games and didn’t quite feel myself get into the rhythm, so I just gave up. There’s nothing on TV and no new movies to watch on cable.

So here I sit with my laptop on and a blank page beckoning me to type some meaningful words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs. Yet I don’t know exactly what to say. Well, except maybe this:

It’s been a difficult year.

And yet as much as I’m trying to move forward with my life, I somehow can’t seem to take anything bigger than baby steps.

I struggle to remember if it was this hard to “get over” my failed IVF — the loss of a total of three “would-be” babies — as it is to “get over” the death of my father. The lines are so blurred these days. But I do know I’m in the same place that I was close to five years ago when I pretty much gave up hope of ever having biological children of my own.

Oh yes, I’m in that deep dark space below. And it sucks.

I’m not sure if these feelings are magnified because of an upcoming anniversary date this Saturday or not. What I do know is that this restless, unsettled feeling is very unnerving. And I wish it would just go away. But somehow I just know that it’s only going to get worse before it gets better.

So if you got a moment … and I truly don’t mean to be such a pity-party right now … but if you can spare a few seconds, could you say a quick prayer or a positive thought my way just so I can make it through the next few days? Because I could really use some bloggie love right about now.

 

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Like the Deserts Miss the Rain

A year ago on the 28th of November, Hubby & I drove back to our Chicago apartment after spending a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend with our family. Upon arriving home we found our 20-year old cat, Rain lying right by her empty water container. She was meowing weakly, but incessantly, letting us know that she was not feeling well.

The last time she was that vocal was when she had fractured her femur and was in a lot of pain. But that time, we knew that she was “fixable” and a large amount of cash later … she was healed and back to her usual self.

This time … well, this time we knew. We knew she was becoming diabetic. We knew that she was slowly going into renal failure. But we also knew that she was well past her life expectancy for a medium-haired, domestic runt of a cat.

So we did what we thought would be best for her. We took her to an emergency vet clinic, who confirmed that Rain had gone into acute renal failure. We were told her prognosis was bad. So sadly, Hubby & I made the decision to let her go peacefully.

And even though I was devastated by this event, I would later find out that Rain had inadvertently given me a gift. She gave me the gift of acceptance to know when to let go of the ones I love so that they can pass onto the next world.

And that gift proved to be valuable over the next week as I learned to accept the inevitable passing of my Dad.

Rain … I know that this past year I’ve spent mourning the loss of your Grandfather. But know that not a day goes by that I don’t miss the unconditional love you provided. You will … and always will be my first and favorite “furbaby.”