This one is going to be less of the gaming and women part, and more of the me part.
After mom died, our family was in shambles. We didn’t have the energy or the time to do much. My brother was borderline catatonic, Dad was dealing with the administrative details of joint accounts, declarations of death, and so on, and I was struggling through classes.
So, this really odd thing happens.
A handful of guys from my dad’s work came by, Air Force types. I just chalked them up to the condolences brigade – military guys tend to stick together, and Dad was always a good guy to work for/with from what I understand. But through my haze I did notice a few oddities. They were poking around in the fridge, asking where the glasses and silverware were. I thought they were just getting refreshments and didn’t think much of it.
So the next day a bunch of them show up -again- with enough plastic and paper dishware to outfit a small mess hall, and a whole lot of food to go with it. Then it hit me – the previous day they’d been doing reconnaissance. They were seeing what we had available, and then they and their families pitched in to make sure that for the next two weeks SOLID we didn’t have to do anything but hit buttons on a microwave.
What was neat was that it went beyond the practical. There was a cake, there were brownies and cookies, and there was this one really neat dish, some kind of chocolate mousse/whipped something or other over an oreo type crust. It was the best damned dessert I have ever tasted in my entire 20something years on earth at that point. It made me feel good, pure comfort food. Food is powerful – most people can eat anything you put in front of them, so making them some manner of dish is always going to be possible as a short, simple way of helping out in the short term. They understood that, and they understood that we might just want to indulge and have something over-the-top nice to eat, so they threw in the desserts instead of just the pot roasts, fried chicken, and buckets of mashed potatoes. We needed more than a crutch (and we needed that crutch, don’t get me wrong), we needed -salve- for the wound. Sugary treats are a hell of an anesthetic.
So what’s your comfort food? Is there something someone made you, or that you make yourself, to feel better? Any recommendations that you can share in order to give someone else a bit of grief relief?