I am not one to watch any kind of daily television, not because I’m on a soap box here, but because I just like doing other things. However, in the evening after the five o’clock news, my husband and I nightly become the television series experts of all time, watching one after the other. “Which one should we watch tonight?” he says. I grab a written list on the coffee table next to me, choose one, and away we go! Anyhow, two days ago, I decided I was going to watch CBS Sunday Morning my husband records for me since he doesn’t care to watch it. I have no idea why I decided to, but it caught my attention immediately.
The show opened with a segment on “happiness.” It showed four women potters from New York city who had taken classes together for years, the oldest and first member in 1971, the newest since 1995. They told of their connection and defined it as a “nearly intangible bond.” All four were clear on the benefit received being together…a sense of belonging, security, intimacy, creativity, and shared experience. I perked up and thought, That’s us, that’s our writing group! Ours are the same reasons. Then came the ache.
Yesterday, our writing group chef, Sally, texted me a picture of a garlic and herbal swirl bread she’d made to accompany her homemade southwest chicken soup. Yumm. She then wrote, “Wish it was for the ‘ol writing group…sure do miss each hosting, promoting and writing.” I texted back, “Such a loss. I didn’t realize it would evolve into that but guess that is just life.”
It began with me. I moved to Colorado. That left the three in Tucson and the meetings weren’t as regular. Next, the pandemic stopped Linda, Diana and Sally from meeting at all. Finally, Linda decided her life was moving onto a different path when it came to the book. We tried to stay in touch regularly, but the book with all its zooms, took a great amount of time. The book is finished and published and yes, Sally, Diana and I zoom almost weekly, but as Sally implied, “Wish we were together.” I understand. It’s just not the same when you can’t sit around a table and write, eat and share your life together. Life constantly changes and this is a big one. Sal, can you send me a slice of that bread?
One thought on “A Piece of Bread”
Oh Jackie, our writing with food, pen, laugh, and plans. What a lovely post, Each time I make or bake a new recipe, I cannot help myself ‘playing house’ that you girls will walk through the door. Thank you so much for the same feelings.