The last conversation I had online with Pokey was mostly about his R&R. He was due to come home for 2 weeks in May. One of the other guys had just gotten back and Pokey was worried we were going to have some huge party for him. He didn't want anyone to know when he was coming home. Wanted to decompress for a couple of days with just the family. I had no problem with the idea of not sharing him with the world for a few days. One of the things he asked was for me to cook chili mac. Now chili mac is poor mans food. macaroni noodles with chili dumped in and stir. Of all the things I have ever cooked I was amused he wanted chili mac. But he asked for it so I was gonna make it. Well I have not been able to cook chili mac since he was killed. I still can't. it's a stupid thing but I had planned to make it for him and knowing he won't be here to eat it is just too hard for me. It's weird the little things that get to me. Like cooking the meal he asked for.
There are other little things that I avoid. It seems silly when I look at it but maybe it's normal. I am not sure I know what normal is anymore though. I just know its not what it once was. There are movies I can't watch. And others I can't watch enough. I won't eat peach jelly beans. They were his favorite. I bought a case of peach soda once and was out the store before I realized I couldn't mail them to him. I sat in my car and cried. The big reminders, the obvious one are easier. It's the little ones.. like chili mac and peach jelly beans that are so much harder. You don't prepare for the little things.
Tonight my other children requested Chili mac for dinner tomorrow. I don't want to tell them why I don't want to make it. I don't want to open the wounds they have too. So I have encouraged my daughter to help out tomorrow and cook dinner. They will have chili mac. But it will be awhile longer before I can make it for them.