10.25.2009

not enough soup

A cousin had a tragedy this past week.  I would modify the word "tragedy" with words like "huge" or "devastating" or even "tragic," but no words could ever do it justice.  There aren't enough words.
Children should not die.
No parent should bury their child.
It goes against everything.
Everything, everything. 

They held an "informal shiva" so (after looking up shiva on wikipedia to make sure I knew what to do) I worked all day Thursday, bought the ingredients and made my #1 all time favorite soup late that night.

Somehow it only made this much.


Never has 32 ounces seemed so utterly pathetic.

I was so disgusted.
I wanted to bring a VAT of soup.
I wanted to bring a gigantic iron cauldron.
I wanted to pull up in one of these
http://paonfarminterns.cas.psu.edu/Photos/2004/Johnson/MilkTruck.jpg
and stick a hose through the kitchen window, flip on the pump, and flood the house with love-in-soup-form till it filled the entire place and they couldn't feel the awful absence of their little girl.

Even if I could, it wouldn't be enough.
Nothing is enough.
I pray that the gesture itself is enough - to convey my condolence, which is a word we have that only seems right in times like this, but still is not ever, ever, no, it is not anywhere close to enough.

2 comments:

Jeremy said...

Dear Cousin,

I had the nicest note all planned about how just you coming by, dayenu, and how just a quart of soup, dayenu, and so forth. (Dayenu: Hebrew for "That would have satisfied us!" as one sings every Passover.)

Then I ate the soup.

Very sad. Please bring truck.

Seriously, though: Thank you. A truckload of soup would not help us grieve as much as a hundred people all giving one kind word and one embrace each. It's the small, kind gestures that mean the most. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

yers,
Jeremy

Sheila said...

I am honored to call you Cousin. Just finished the soup in question. So sorry I did not know to thank you or say hello or bring you to Donna's playroom and show you the bubbles that grace the wall, made so long ago. Thank you, Cousin Lacy.

We would love the recipe. Folks are clamoring for it on this end. Many grateful thanks, Donna's Mama, Sheila.