So for practically the entire day, I made repeated trips to the kitchen, spied in the refrigerator, and fumbled through the canned food in the cabinet for something that would satisfy my hunger pangs.. i’ve been home for over two weeks, and at least three times daily i would gorge myself with the food cooked lovingly by a mother who missed me very much this semester.. and being the filipino mother that she is, i found myself eating the familiar foods i grew up with — unique home dishes that could never be found in restaurants or bought in supermarkets…
today i was hungry. but strangely i ended up eating nothing.. the entire afternoon i went back to the kitchen (during the commercials that interrupted reruns of the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air) to look for something to eat and found nothing.. of course there was food in the kitchen, but i was getting a little tired of it, the same way we got tired of food in the Waves Café back at Pepperdine..
but while foraging and rummaging through the cabinet, i found myself holding something that sparked the birth of this Note: a can of vienna sausage.
then it hit me.
the can of vienna sausage reminded me of a story my dad told me whenever i got picky with my food or had spoiled tendencies.. my dad grew up in a small province of the Philippines in poverty where food was scare. he told me every once in a rare while his father would come home with a can of vienna sausage for the entire family.. well, not the whole family. every can comes with seven sausages, and there were only enough sausages to feed my dad and his six siblings; his parents didn’t get any.. he told me that he and his siblings had to hide their one sausage inside their mound of rice to assure the prevention of thievery of the tiny morsel.. that’s how insane the situation was! My dad’s story showed me that in his childhood he didn’t even get a chance to be picky…
i’m not trying to do a ‘Chicken Soup for the Collegian Soul,’ nor am i trying to even get any sort of message across.. i’m merely sharing my events and thoughts [and lessons, i guess] of the day.. maybe starting next year i’ll try to remember this story more often and try to be more grateful, especially while i’m at home, able to enjoy the food that i know i’m going to miss a month from now, and especially at the Waves Café while ordering a double cheeseburger, even if its for the 28th time in a row,
speaking of food, as I’m writing this, i’m eating vienna sausage along with a cup of noodle on a dining room table.. it’s strangely satisfying.