My Exercise In Futility

I know my recap of Survivor seasons past are years passed due – but I can’t resist. I have to discuss this game with someone – even if it is an empty blogosphere.

I am watching episodes two’s tribal council as I write this. I’m already screaming at the television. The Latino tribe deliberately through a challenge in order to get rid of a member, Billy. I think that was the right move. I can’t believe that the police officer, Christina, doesn’t see that getting rid of Billy is the correct move.

I also can’t believe that Billy feels he is in love with Candace from the Caucasian tribe. During tribal council, Billy professes his love for Candace, swearing it’s love at first sight for both of them. During the last immunity challenge, she had whispered, “Awe – WE love you.” She didn’t say I, she said we, and she said it out of sympathy. She said this AFTER stating she felt bad for the Latino tribe due to their loss and AFTER hearing Billy whimper, “I’m next.” Billy knew he was a marked man.

I was very happy to see that the tribe, as a whole, was sensible enough to vote Billy off. The vote to eject Billy from the game was unanimous, excluding the vote cast by Billy. I don’t know if I could have watched the rest of the season knowing that fat, lazy piece of shit had manipulated a cop into thinking he was worth saving. Outrageous!

I was making myself a sandwich for lunch today and was nearly in tears before I could put the finishing piece of bread on top. I had an overwhelming memory of the last time my mother made me a sandwich while visiting her in Naples around Christmas of 2008. Deep in her fight with stage 4 lung cancer, my mother was not doing well; I had just returned from what we had comically referred to as a drug run, traveling between 3 or 4 pharmacies in the Naples area trying to acquire pain medication for her. I came back to the house extremely agitated and hungry.

I went to make myself a quick ham sandwich. It was nothing special, just two pieces of ham and some cheese laid out flat on Wonder bread. As I moved to the couch with my sandwich, my mother scuffed at my horribly crafted sandwich and immediately jumped up from the couch, grabbed my sandwich and ran off to the kitchen. This act alone took a lot of dedication and concentration on my mother’s part – walking was not easy for her now – the cancer had moved to the bones in her legs as well.

My mother made the sandwich over for me, explaining that you can’t just lie the meat flat. She continued explaining how she never understood paying $7 for a sandwich somewhere and receiving 2 flat pieces of meat, a single piece of cheese, all laid flatly between plain white bread. The proper way to make a sandwich, regardless of how ordinary, was to add a little bit of lettuce, thinly sliced tomato, and to fold the sandwich meat to make the sandwich at least look bigger than it really was.

As I took my mother’s newly crafted sandwich, I realized how much pain she must have been in for the past 5 minutes as she stood at the counter with her walker to make me a good looking sandwich. I realized how much love went into those two slices of Wonder bread, Oscar Meyer ham, and Kraft American cheese. I also knew it was probably the last sandwich my mother would ever make for me. It was delicious.

Today, I had folded the meat and added the lettuce and tomato just as she did that day in December. Even though the sandwich did look delicious, it didn’t taste the same. The love just wasn’t there. I wish my mother were here today – even if it was just to make me one more sandwich.

You can’t miss it…. everywhere you go… hearts, flowers, candy…. blah blah blah. My one friend would call it “Single Awareness Day”. Usually, I would maybe have myself a small pity party since I am one again single. However, this year… I am 100% happy with being single. While walking around the grocery store today I was reflecting on that notion. Thinking about last year when my sister and I found a hand written Valentine from my Father to my Mother. It was messy and hardly legible, but also the sweetest most heartfelt love letter I have ever read. Of course Kathy and I shed a few tears because we knew my Mother’s life was coming to an end. So today I decided to buy a card, some candy, and a heart-shaped cake. After I left the grocery store I dropped it all off at my Dad’s and in the card I wrote “On Valentine’s Day I wanted you know how truly blessed I feel for having grown within the presence of true love between you and Mom. Thank you”

While my growing up was no walk in the park, recognizing the love between my Mom and Dad was. Words put into action…for richer or poorer, for sickness and health, good times and bad until death do us part.  It’s not everyday one can say that. Happy Valentine’s Day!