I Need a “Best Life”

These last few days, I’ve been camping in the RV that DJ and I were supposed to use to travel around the U.S. Even though she never set foot in it after the first visit when we decided to buy it, I feel her presence here with me.

Right after we bought it, she came home one day with some bedding, cleaning supplies, and a shitload of ziplock bags. DJ never went anywhere without ziplock bags. I have more freaking ziplock bags in this RV than I’ve ever had in my entire, freaking life. DJ loved ziplock bags.

After she came home with the above mentioned stuff, I got home from work a few days later to find DJ on her iPad. She glanced up at me without even saying much of a hello and said, “I’ve found the Camping World website and my cart is full of things for the RV.” She showed me her cart and there was a shower head in it. We hadn’t even used the new shower with the existing shower head but she had already decided the RV needed a new one. (Sadly, I thought I could keep the Camping World website a secret for a little bit longer. I should have known better. I could keep nothing hidden from DJ.)

While I’ve been relaxing on this trip, I have been practicing some mindful meditation. I came across a “grief” meditation and decided to try it out. It was somewhat cathartic until the guide said that we “needed to let go of our grief in order to live our best life.” But I wonder, what if our best life was supposed to be with the person we are grieving over? What if my best life is behind me? What if my best life was the 10 years I lived with Djamila and I didn’t know it at the time? And what am I supposed to do now?

Also, does it count as our best life if sometimes, we say, and do, things we regret? Example, I am a picky person. I am especially picky about my food. I have written about my food-pickiness before. I do not have to eat something just because it’s in my pantry or my freezer but when I get in the mood to eat something, I have to have it. Seriously. It actually hurts my psyche once I have my mind made up about something I want to taste.

DJ was quite the opposite. If it was in the house, it was meant to be eaten. Sometimes, this put my food at risk. I should have learned that my food would be permanently disappearing at the very beginning of our relationship because shortly after DJ moved in, we went grocery shopping together. I was in the mood for some cottage cheese. I asked her if she wanted some and she said, no, she didn’t like cottage cheese. We took it home and a couple of weeks later, I decided I was in the mood for the cottage cheese. I like it with salt and pepper and Frito corn chips (quit making that face…don’t knock it until you’ve tried it). So, I stopped and got a bag of Fritos on my way home from work. I dug around in the fridge for my cottage cheese and couldn’t find it. I asked DJ if she’d seen it and she said, yes, she’d eaten it. What?!

“You told me you didn’t even like cottage cheese,” I said.

“I don’t,” she said.

“Well then, why did you eat it?”

“I was hungry,” she said.

And that was the beginning of my hiding certain foods, most of which would never remain hidden long. Half the time, she would find it and eat it. After a few years, she finally got around to asking me if I would mind if she opened the package and tried whatever it was I had failed to keep hidden. Sometimes, I was successful in keeping some foods hidden but she always had a way of knowing when I was eating something of which she had not partaken. Maybe it was the sneaky way I was putting it in my mouth before she could see it. I don’t know but she always knew and she’d say, “Whatcha got there? Whatcha got?,” in a lilting, sing-song voice, to which I would mumble, “nothing.” And then I’d feel guilty and offer her one of whatever I’d been sneaking.

I found a package of something I’d hidden while cleaning out a kitchen cabinet the other day and I instantly regretted hiding it. What if she would have enjoyed it? What if I was just being a bitch by being so possessive over something so trivial? I regret having been such a shit about these small things.

I suppose, I’ve veered off track a bit. Camping led to the RV which led to the meditation which led to the question about my “best life” which led to my food obsessions which led to the fact that I miss DJ as much today as I did the day she passed and maybe my best life will be the one I’ll never get back. The one she took with her when she died and left me with no reason to hide my food ever again.

Food Fuck This I Need I Want Life Sucks Love Personal

Monica View All →

I enjoy reading and have blogged in the past about travel and books. My latest blog is a vanity blog. I write about whatever comes to mind, specifically, things I think I need in life. Hope you enjoy!

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