That’s the Way – uh huh, uh huh – I slice it ….

Disco Momma 1975

My apologies to KC and the Sunshine Band, but this is what continues to roll around in my head as I contemplate the deli department. I am fascinated by the idea that there may be a connection between my 1975 disco dazed platform shoe wearing self and my latest persona of Deli woman, even though I have no idea what it may be.

It seems fairly obvious that thinking about safe food handling, store protocols, and the infinite nuances of Boar’s Head product varieties leaves little room for either grief or disco. Perhaps this is a good thing on both counts.

I look in the mirror these days and barely recognize the woman I see. I am not talking about the process of aging, although it does seem to have accelerated this past year. I am speaking of the ongoing and continuing process of transformation that plays out on my face as I explore living for the first time in well over 20 years in an environment without a single live being, human or four-legged breathing along with me.

Do I bear a striking or even faded resemblance to the woman in all the mirrors that have come before? Who was the caregiver, Pilates devotee, rower, co-worker, mom, photographing, beading, adventurous, beach combing, disco mamma passionate Beth? Where do these parts of me now reside? Is it possible to repurpose the qualities that contributed to each of those roles? Is there a way to coax at least some of them back; nuanced now with added depth of textures and flavors that the recent years have brought?

There are times when the silence of my home is peaceful and welcoming. It is luxurious to get up in the middle of a sleepless night to bake, knit, do laundry, or listen to music without having to consider waking anyone. There is joy in coming home tired from work and eating a handful of pretzels on the couch instead of cooking dinner. And yet…

I am finding my way, even through the crying that accompanies, stacking the last cord of wood, hearing the heartbeat of the drum during the Micmac Honor Song at church, Molly’s collar falling out of the closet as I reach for my hat, or coming home from work in so much pain that I can not move.

I begin to contemplate the honor in food preparation and service from a new angle.  I look forward to a day, when there may be another place mat or place mats joining mine on the kitchen table as I create an elaborately luxurious meal to share.

After all, “That’s the Way… Uh Huh Uh Huh, … I slice it.”



"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1 bakka2thesource a collaboration of musicians and artists.
This entry was posted in Life, Life with Deli Woman, love, mindfulness, Overcoming Obstacles, Post grief recovery, Resiliency, Success and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

24 Responses to That’s the Way – uh huh, uh huh – I slice it ….

  1. frangipani says:

    Now I’m going to hear that tune all night!
    I think time for transformation can be so exciting. You never really know what you’re going to get. Just enjoy the moment, whether it is savoring new experiences, or rediscovering old delights.

  2. Bobby Jay Aubin says:

    So enlighteneing Beth! Love the metaphors! xo

  3. Oh, don’t worry, dearie, I am sure there are Lots of six or eight legged friends sojourning in your house…

  4. lapetinaa says:

    Yes, you are still that same person, Beth. Once you peel away the layers of grief you will unveil an even better, fuller and deeper version of yourself. And I guarantee there will be more placemats at your table because you are that kind of person. xxxxxx

  5. Clanmother says:

    Beautifully written and profoundly joyful!!! I am enjoying our journey!

  6. EllaDee says:

    Inspiring post… we never know where life will take us, and I enjoyed your description the women you have been before… it’s always reassuring to have the road behind you so you know as you’ve followed that road you can follow the road ahead in whatever guise life needs from you 🙂

    • It sure is and adventure isn’t it? It is so true, knowing we did this, that and the other creates a sense of competence in the ability to continue. Ah so many phases, and wonderful places to experiment in ever widening circles. much love to you, and thanks again for the encouragement.

  7. mike says:

    Smiling with you , Beth.

  8. Glad you are getting along fine. 🙂

  9. ijwoods says:

    Really liked your post Beth, you have a wonderful way of making a difficult subject elicit a smile.. Grief is so unpredictable, isn’t it? I was at a memorial this week, put on by the hospice that took care of K, for all the people they cared for in the past year. The bereavement counselor was also there along with the hospice administrators and some nurses. I sent her a thank you note afterwards to the counselor (they invited me to speak) and she came back with this really nice reply I thought you might appreciate: “One of the blessings of moving through grief is being able to look back at last month, or last year, and recognizing that you have been “moving” through grief. We often don’t observe the changes, in the same way we don’t notice when we grew taller, put on a pound a month, or got an extra gray hair until all of sudden we look at where we were and where we are and see the change. I see the change from the man I met over a year ago to the man who was able to speak about Kristin to a room full of strangers.”

  10. lance gauthier says:

    I have recently educated myself as to the difference between pacetta and proscuitto. I find deli’s as interesting as libraries, (almost). Learn all you can, taste all you can, and have fun….

  11. Ignacia says:

    Your post, That’s the Way – uh huh, uh huh – I slice it …. | middlescapes, is really well written and insightful. Glad I found your website, warm regards from Ignacia!

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