Soul soothing Chicken soup

My friend Wendi used to make the best chicken soup with matza balls. It always makes me think of her when I make it. Before we met, I didn’t even know what a matzo ball was. How I lived my whole life having never experienced the ultimate comfort of matzo ball soup is crazy and sad. Me, being one to enjoy comfort more than a lot of people, I now relish a cold day and all the right ingredients.

We’ve had some moments lately. Oh my, we definitely have. Wendi would understand. The difficulty of these strange times can not be well described. What sends one day spiraling is usually something impossible to plan for. The unexpected has taken on new meaning here as temperatures plummet and seriousness amps up.

I’m tired of not understanding anything. I’m experiencing a different kind of discouragement that has only simple, yet complicated remedies. Thankfully, I have some detachment, but most of the time I feel my head cocked to one side like dog trying to put together all of the clues. Mostly regarding, how am I in trouble again?

Today, I get to make soup. Today, I’m not doing anything (that I know of) wrong. Today feels like a gift. Yoga was lovely, shopping was fun and now a gentle aroma of broth is wafting through the empty house. Ice crystals hang in the outside air, but I am sitting in a sliver of sunshine enjoying some tea while I wait for broth to lift meat from bone and matza to firm up in the fridge. I know my peaceful moment is coming to an end, but oh I do appreciate it right now while it lasts.