Ovens

I am not a cook. This is mostly due to the fact that I do not have a sense of taste or smell. Sometimes, on a good day, I can smell cinnamon, but never smoke or fire. That's why when I blew up the oven a few Thanksgivings ago Colby and I decided it shouldn't be replaced. I have a history of unintentionally setting the kitchen on fire. Instead, Colby got me a small toaster oven with a glass window, so I could watch the food cook. This was so I could take the food out of the oven before it burned up. For the most part, that idea worked.

Today, however, the toaster oven that Colby so thoughtfully gave me died. I unplug it from the wall and slowly wrap the cord around its body. I feel immense sadness, even though I know the oven was old and had worked hard day after day. But it isn't until I drive to the store to buy a new oven that I break down. I park in the lot and cry, big, heart-wrenching sobs. Not having this particular oven, this thoughtful gift from my son, means that I am one more step away from Colby. This new oven will hold none of the memories of the old and today that is almost more than I can bear. Almost.

A while ago a friend sent me a quote about every day that passes means I am one day closer to seeing Colby in heaven. I believe that is true. But it is so hard to put that twist on it, to view it from that perspective, when all I feel is that each day that passes takes me one more day away from his last words, his last hug, his last gift, his last phone call. But I try. I do try.

I dry my tears, purchase a new oven, bring it home and take the old oven down to the trash bin. I find it interesting that I have no desire to hang on to it, even though it was something very special that Colby gave me. Maybe it is because my home is filled with thoughtful gifts from him. Or, maybe it is because I am further along my journey in grief. Or, maybe it is just because my house is still so overloaded with stuff that I know I need to get rid of as many things as possible.

I close the lid on the trash can and give it a pat. Then I climb the stairs to the kitchen and sit down to read the new oven's directions. If I can't have the oven that Colby gave me, then at least I can have the thought behind it and do my best to keep my kitchen flame free.