Food is Love

Recently, I posted on my Facebook page that I was preparing myself for Nathan’s departure for college. I questioned if I was ready for it. I answered, “No, not at all.”

I’d add it to a long list of life’s not readys. Was I ready for the death of Disco? (You might not ever get rich but let me tell ya it's better than digging a ditch!) No. Was I ready for the revamped Boston Garden? No. Was I ready to become a second-time Mom at the age of 40? No. Though I guess that’s what life was really about; it was about being ready or not, because eventually it all came if you were ready or not.

One of my friends, whose daughter just graduated, replied to my posting. She asked, “Is your living room filled with college stuff yet?” I looked at my living room. In it was a couch, two chairs, two tables, a china cabinet, and a bookcase.

There were no signs of college life in my faux Victorian period living room. There were signs that my carpet needed vacuuming. There were signs that my bookcase and tables needed to be dusted; however, there were no hints that I had an 18-year-old who was going off to college shortly.

I wanted to respond to my friend's post but what would I say? “Err, no. When should I expect ICO (Identified College Objects) in my living room?" I hesitated and hesitation led to doubt. Was I doing something wrong in regard to Nathan's college preparation because I had no ICOs in my living room?

I pondered. I remember packing everything and the kitchen sink when I went to college; I even painfully remember wondering how I would survive without being with my Mom and my cats, Jerry, Patches, and Little Red. I reminded myself that my friend had a daughter.

I then said to myself, “18-year-old girls are from Bed, Bath, and Beyond; 18-year-old boys are from “Subway.” Some day the girls would be from Venus and the men would be from Mars. But, in the scheme of going away to college, this didn't seem to apply yet; in college, everyone was on the same page of Cosmos -- no parents, universal domination for all!

The girls needed the storage containers, the matching comforters and sheets, and the framed vintage movie posters to adorn their walls. The guys needed food. And, that’s all the guys really needed.

If the World ended tomorrow, I knew cockroaches would survive. I know that Nathan hoped that Subway would survive any nuclear disaster. I'm sure he could deal with the cockroaches as long as he had Subway.

At that point, I questioned Nathan. “Did you get a list of things you need from school.” He answered, “Yep.”

I asked, “Well, do we need to go shopping.” He answered, “Nope.” I asked, “But, you need things?” He answered, “Yep,” and then he finally, uncharacteristically, eked out a huge amount of information and said, “Dad and I are getting that stuff.”

I felt a bit gypped in the “Son Going to College” portion of my life. Besides paying for it, I wanted to be in the “Son Going to College” loop somehow. I called Nathan’s Dad to confirm that Nathan was going to be ready and not a not.

I went over the mental list in my head with his Dad. TV? He said that Nathan would have his new laptop and bring his large monitor; he could watch all his favorite shows on Hulu. Clothes? He was taking Nathan shopping for clothes. Refrigerator? He said, “Oh, you can buy that.”

I was elated that I was now a cog in “Son Going to College” wheel. Somehow buying a refrigerator became a mission not a consumer purchase. Of course, every mission has its failures and every cog gets worn down; I said to Nathan, “I’m getting you a refrigerator,” and he responded, “I don’t need one.”

As the air seeped out of my deflating tire, I asked, “But, but, but… [think fast, Mom], wouldn’t it be good to keep some cold drinks in your room?” Nathan pondered my suggestion. He answered, “Well, I guess so,” and I was a newly carved cog in the wheel again and the mission was not aborted.

On Saturday, I went to Target to search for the perfect refrigerator. Nathan said that he preferred black to white. Since Nathan’s room looked like every hurricane in history had passed through it, I wondered why he was now getting picky when it came to décor; however, I shied away from asking not wanting to receive an abort from “Son Going to College” mission.

I was probably taking it far too seriously; however, this “Son Going to College” mission was near and dear to my heart. I knew that many had done it before me, but I had never done it before; in my life, I was Neil Armstrong walking on a college campus for the first time.

Once at Target, I texted Nathan with “Big refrigerator?” and “Or small refrigerator?” with corresponding pictures. Given that I knew he wasn’t gung ho on the refrigerator from the start, I guessed his answer would be “small.” I guessed right.

I then texted him asking him if he wanted a white board for his dorm room. Of course, two seconds after texting this, I realized, “OMG, that’s so before cell phones.” He asked, “Why do I need one of those?”

I then tried to gracefully and comically recover from my “I’ve No Clue What It’s Like Having a Son Going to College in 2011” text. I answered, “Oh, we used to have them in college. But that was when dinosaurs roamed the Earth and we had no texting via cell phones.” He replied, “I’ll pass.”

After lifting what must have been a 100-pound 1.8 cubic chrome (in absence of black) refrigerator into my cart, I found myself in the food aisles. Somewhere between dairy and frozen foods, I determined that in absence of a matching comforter and sheets, I could give Nathan a “If the World Ends Tomorrow” or “I Have the Munchies After My First Off Campus Keg Party” food supply. After all, that’s what 18-year-old boys want – food!

As I strolled through the aisles, I thought about my friend’s question. Boys were so different from girls; I’m sure that when Iz goes to college, I will have a living room and family room full of matching comfortors, coordinating bins, and vintage movie posters. Nathan would be going to college with his clothes in a green trash bag, his computer, a long board (no bike for school; only a long board for which the campus had many racks!), and a refrigerator.

What I was getting for him, all seemed too little; however, it retrospect, it was all that he needed. For some reason, reasons that probably many parents know, I needed to give him more. So, I threw into my cart a huge box of Pepperidge Farm goldfish, two 42 ounce bags of M&Ms, 24 Hershey bars, and three bags of Oreo Double Stuff cookies.

I texted Nathan. I asked, “Do you like trail mix?” He responded, “Stop buying me stuff!”

It was true. Nathan would be going to college with all he had on his back and not much more. From his tone, it would certainly now be without trail mix!

In that moment, I was so proud of him yet I felt sad, because I felt that the food I was buying was all that I could really give to him right now. He was an adult who was going to handle it all on his own. But, in a way, he was too young to understand what the food meant to me.

When I was little, my Mom was a stay-at-home Mom until I was in first grade. At that point, she went back to work and worked only every other weekend. While my Dad did his best to be Mr. Mom, making us macaroni and cheese or kielbasa with beans for dinner, he lacked in the nurturing department. I remember tucking my sister in those nights and reading her Richard Scary’s “What Do People Do All Day?”

For lunches, my Dad was off duty. My sister loved peanut butter and jelly. Even though my sister was only 16 months younger than me, I always felt I needed to take care of her; I slathered on the jelly and the peanut butter.

Years later, she would tell me that I put on way too much jelly and peanut butter on my sandwiches. It was then I recalled my Mother telling me that she felt her Mom showed love using food. “Food was love,” my Mom used to say.

As I stood there in Target, I glanced at the refrigerator and then at the goldfish, Oreos, Hershey bars, and M&Ms. I smiled. I reminded myself that before Nathan left for college, I’d be sure to buy him a Subway gift card, because there was one near his campus. Good or bad, food was love and sometimes the only thing you felt you had to give. ♥