For the Love of Food-

Everybody has had a bad birthday, but I truly believe that mine reaches into the top ranks of the “worst birthday ever”. Before I get to that though, I should explain some background information. I lived in Bowdoin for about 9 years of my childhood and I was either 12 or 13 when I moved to Brunswick with my mother. We moved in with my mother’s friend Jackie, who was an older woman with some sort of mental disorder, insanity maybe? She used to talk to her dead mother and think I was standing next to her quite a bit, there were many times where she would storm into my room and say “I was talking to you!” when I wasn’t even in the room with her for the past few hours or so. Despite this, I still really enjoyed living in brunswick. While living there, I was able to go to many places within walking distance like the school, the park, food places I enjoy eating at, etc. As well as having many places to go, it also wasn’t a very busy area so It was the best mix between the country and the city, the year I lived there was one of my best years. Even though I didn’t have that many friends, I still enjoyed being able to hang out with the friends I did have in the neighborhood. Me and my friends would all walk to my house or to the park after school and it was one of the only times I felt like a real teenager. As well as making a few new friends, I ended up bonding with Jackie as well, and I thought of her as a grandmother of some sorts, even if she was rather crazy. I remember she used to make amazing peanut butter cookies with little chocolate kisses on top, they would melt in my mouth.

I still miss her and all the freedom I had back then, but as life goes, everything comes to an end eventually. My mother worked quite a lot and ended up taking trips to places most of the time, she was almost never home. I always figured my mother just had a very busy job, I actually didn’t really know what her job was since she skipped around with different jobs so much. A few days before my 14th birthday, my mother went on one of these trips and promised to come back in time to see me for my birthday. I know this sounds like a plot from a Netflix original right now, but I promise there is a twist. The night before my birthday Jackie and my moms old boyfriend, Adam, sat me down in the living room, they both looked very concerned. They gave it to me straight, my mother was working as a drug dealer and had gotten caught. She was an addict and soon took that addiction to make a career. My mother was addicted to meth (methamphetamine) and was selling it and other drugs to people, if she had continued any farther she would have died. My mother was sentenced 5 years in prison in Connecticut, which is where she was driving through to get home for my birthday. Adam and Jackie told me the basis and continued to try and save their own skin by telling me that they didn’t do drugs and that they tried to “stop her”, but eventually I figured out they were lying. I was torn away from my home on my 14th birthday, I lost my friends, my home, my freedom, and my mother that day. My grandparents took me in that morning and allowed me to live with them. I never expected it to happen, I was completely in the dark.

After this all had happened, I looked to many different things to try and cope. I worked on my art and I focused on theater and making friends, but the one thing that kept me going was my shared love of food with my grandfather. My grandfather is technically not related to me by blood, so he’s like a step-grandfather! I call him by his name instead of “grandfather” or “grandpa”, it sounds so weird when he’s only in his mid 50’s. He is an amazing cook and he opened me up to the world of cooking, his creations helped me cope and they made me feel at home. My grandfather inspired me to take culinary classes and get into the industry. If this situation didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be the person I am now. I wouldn’t have joined theater, I wouldn’t have started cooking, Id still be sitting in my room playing video games all day. My mother is doing well now, and after over 3 years of living with my grandparents, I finally moved back in with my mother in our own house. She is clean and has her own job and her own friends now. I have never been more proud of her than I am right now. My mom has come a very long way and so have I, she overcame her addiction and I overcame my fears by opening up and finding activities I enjoy doing!

My story reminds me of a web comic I read called Gourmet Hound by Robyn Hamada. The main character Lucy had a special relationship with her grandmother who loved to cook and loved food, but she passed away and left Lucy feeling alone. Lucy had a very special gift, her senses of smell and taste were very strong! She could taste the difference between different chef’s cooking, even if they made the same exact dish. Lucy’s favorite restaurant that she used to go to with her grandmother had a new owner that bought it out, and they switched the staff out with new cooks. Lucy could tell right away and the story is about her trying to find all the past cooks from that restaurant so she can eat their food one last time. I really relate to this story because I also turned to food when I lost someone as well. I fully understand what it is like for something to taste like home. In the end, we never know what is going to happen next. Life is full of surprises, good and bad, so always expect the unexpected.

Photo on Foter.com