Granola

Molly and I love breakfast. We've been having eggs every way you can name practically since she's been eating solid foods. Regular scrambled, fried, eggs-in-a-hole...

Our mutual favorite is a new way I saw on Rachel Rae--add a little water to the pan and cover while they cook, leaving you with a soft, maybe pouched texture? Whatever it's called, it gives us the perfect over medium--with a gloriously goopy yolk that spills out onto your plate when you cut into it. Mmmmm….

This year though, Molly's class eats breakfast together after everyone arrives. They all walk down to the cafeteria even you've already had breakfast, and sit together as a class. When Molly and I first learned about this routine, we were a little sad. We somehow knew it meant the end of our own routine we love so much.

At first she wanted to keep having eggs with me in the morning. But after day 3, she longingly told me all about the granola bar they have for breakfast at school where you pick your fruit and add yogurt to the granola. She admitted she wanted to eat it too, but didn't want to stop eating with me either. You could see how conflicted she was about it, so I encouraged her to go ahead and eat with her class. We could still have our eggs on the weekends. She asked if I'd be sad...I told her a little, but I'd be okay. I'm pretty tough 😉

So on the fourth day we skipped breakfast together, and instead got dressed and just walked out the door. It felt weird. Eating my eggs alone after I got home, I was a little sad. Its hard for chapters to end, to let go of our favorite things in them. Breakfast with my little bed-headed Molly is something that was always such a constant in my life...

And I realized it wasn't only that Molly and I have had breakfast together since I WAS breakfast that made this transition so hard, but also because it reminded me who would have still been eating with me. I was grieving the growing up of Molly, at the same time that I'm grieving the never growing up of my Drew. My eggs didn't taste so great that morning...

I've tried not to put this on her shoulders though. I want her to enjoy her granola bar with her class, and not feel bad or guilty that I'm eating breakfast alone now. How sad would it be for her to sit there and not eat with everyone else?  No, she needs to be a part of the class, enjoy the granola bar.  Me being sad about it isn't her burden to carry--Lord knows she carries enough.

So after a day or two of crying through my eggs, I decided to make the best of my new reality...a skill I've unfortunately acquired. What are things she never wanted to eat with me? Her yogurt and granola sounded good. Maybe I'd make myself some. I looked up recipes and found one that looked good. I got all the ingredients at the store and began a batch. It took some time, between the baking and cooling. But I finished it!  I felt all "crunchy Mom".  I was excited to give it a try the next morning (and guess who had to try a little before school? 😏).

As I ate my granola for breakfast that next week, I was somewhat unexpectedly taken back to the hospital. See, a friend of mine in town made me granola for quite a while during the time Drew was sick. I'd bring her the empty giant Mason jar at the end of the week, and she'd deliver a fresh home-made batch the next. I took it with me to the hospital, it was one of my favorite breakfasts there because it was so easy and good. I'd bring the tub of vanilla Greek yogurt and fresh fruit and would mix those with the granola. I guess I had my own granola bar going on!  And if we were home, I'd have it sometimes as an afternoon snack....

I closed my eyes, and I could almost see my Drew again, sitting in his bed, watching his morning dose of Paw Patrol, or the John Deere tractor DVDs. Occasionally looking over the edge of his hospital bed, investigating what I was eating. And for a moment, it was like I wasn't eating alone after all...

I've written about how smells, songs and sounds have instantly transported me back to the time I had with Drew. That week, it was a taste. Yogurt and granola. Just as sweet as the memories of my little Drewy Clause.



As I enjoyed the bowls of loaded granola for breakfast, I thought about the whole process it was to make my own batch. And how this friend made me a batch week after week. She took that time, for me. And I remembered so many others who took time for me and my family that year too.

I've shared before how family and friends left their own families to help me take care of mine. There were several times I was humbled by the acknowledgement I made in my own heart that before all of this, I probably wouldn't have done the same for them.  I smiled thinking of the examples that came to mind of people doing nice things for me, going out of their way, to help us in our time of need. It left me once again, filled with gratitude.

In the midst of the examples coming to mind, the verse where Jesus talks about laying down one's life in love for a friend popped into my head too. I looked it up, and found Jesus' words in John 15:13, "Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends." I've learned to not to dismiss these seemingly random thoughts, but recognize them for what the Bible tells us they are--whispers from the Spirit.

I've been thinking about that verse, reading those surrounding it. And I wonder if it isn't only the literal meaning that we can draw from that statement--that the love Jesus had for His friends, for us, would be shown when he would actually lay down his life in death--as if that's not enough!  I feel Jesus also suggesting to me through His Word and the examples I was thinking about from my own life, that we also have the opportunity to "lay down" our own lives for our friends in love, just like so many did for me.

We aren't all called to die for each other, but could we set aside our plans, sacrifice the time out of our day, in love for one another? My friend did when she made me all those batches of granola. My parents and in laws, aunts and uncles, cousins, and friends did when they "laid down" their lives for a week to come to Minnesota to help us.  And so many others went out of their way to run errands, do favors, and have lengthy conversations to help me process what was happening to us (some still do!), in love for me.

When do I lay down my life for those I love--for a weekend, for an hour, or for even a few minutes? I should be trying to make that a question I have an answer for every day.

Its something we all would agree with, but actually doing it is what counts. Its easy to come up with reasons or excuses why we can't do whatever is needed. My generation is all about boundaries these days, but they seem to get in the way sometimes. I'm on board with healthy boundaries between those with which we are in relationship. I agree that it is important for the well being of all. But sometimes I wonder if we use boundaries as a trendy excuse to avoid doing things we don't want to do. A way to get out of being inconvenienced or uncomfortable, "laying down our lives", for others. When I think about it, it seems the way some people have implemented boundaries is somewhat at odds with what Jesus said about loving our friends in a sacrificial way.

I'm not sure if I have this all worked out yet, if I have it worded quite right. But my granola batch brought this all up in my mind, and I thought it was worth sharing. Something for us all to think about...




So as we make our way through this first quarter of Molly's school year, things are a little different. But we are adjusting. Making the most of it, and learning from it. I have my coffee to-go as we bike/walk to school, and I come home and enjoy some new things besides eggs for breakfast.

As memories come up, and grief demands to be felt again, I know it isn't in vain if we grow from it, if we learn something new.  I hope I will always be humbled and grateful by all that so many did for us in 2016. And hopefully I can continue to love others in the sacrificial way they loved and still love me today ❤