“What’s the bravest thing you ever did?
He spat in the road a bloody phlegm. Getting up this morning, he said.”
― Cormac McCarthy, The Road
One of James’ most annoying lines, and always before I was about to tuck into my evening meal, was: don’t leave your broccoli. I would proceed to stuff as many stalks as I could into my mouth and put my face no less than an inch away from his and say “ I am, look, see?” with bits of floret spitting out as I did so. He tried really hard not to laugh or be disgusted. But left to my own devices I find that I do not eat my broccoli, I don’t really even cook it. I now find that for the first time in my life I have cold sores, it’s like a physical manifestation of neglect; emotional scurvy if you will. I’m like a malnourished pirate looking for pieces of B eight………………..aarrraggghh.
We have always had a blackboard wall in our kitchen, it’s handy for lists and reminders. We would often write slogans or favourite quotes on it. After children arrived it was: ‘And now cried Max, let the wild rumpus start.’ In time this changed to our new moto: Eat. Sleep. Rave. Repeat. We liked the track. It’s not that we were doing any raving, but for us it meant living and doing it to the full. Making every day count. It’s still there, I don’t have the heart/courage to rub it out but RAVE was definitely the first to go, then SLEEP departed, EAT went on its merry way too with the broccoli and vitamins.
After James died, I got so many emails and beautiful letters, one of my favourite ones was from an artist friend Mila Furstova. In it she said this; ‘ Breathe deeply darling Orna…..just breathe and hold your children…….for now that is enough.’ REPEAT