When I was lit­tle, I would typ­i­cally spend “sick days” at home with my Dad. Mom would work the day shift, while Dad would work the off shift. Such was the life of a dual-​​income family.

Dur­ing those sick days, I’d typ­i­cally be rel­e­gated to my bed­room to sleep off the ill­ness that would’ve plagued me for a day or two. And if I was lucky, I would be allowed to lie on the fam­ily room couch and watch day­time TV.

The thing I remem­ber most about those sick days was the soup my Dad would make for my lunch. He’d make this chicken noo­dle soup that I absolutely loved. And I knew I’d be feel­ing bet­ter if I’d ask for a sec­ond bowl.

It was a soup that only my Dad could repli­cate, much to my Mom’s cha­grin. Even­tu­ally it became known as “Daddy Soup,” and I’d always request it when­ever I got sick.

It was com­fort food for me; the warmth of the broth sooth­ing my sore throat. The chicken bits pro­vid­ing nour­ish­ment for an oth­er­wise lack­lus­ter appetite. The egg added that made the it taste like egg drop soup with chicken and noo­dles … The “secret ingre­di­ent” that made Dad’s soup unique. All of it just reminded me of home. And of being cared for as a child.

I think about this soup at times when I miss my Dad the most. And I know it’s because I’m miss­ing the com­fort of my child­hood when things seemed so much simpler.

Nowa­days life seems much more com­pli­cated; so much more com­plex. While I know that’s just part of nor­mal life, hav­ing this mem­ory helps remind me that I was loved by my Dad and that I am still loved by those peo­ple who reach out to me … Espe­cially dur­ing this par­tic­u­larly dif­fi­cult time in my life.

I’ll just refer to these reminders as “Daddy Soup for my soul.”

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