By Elena Matyas

The three of us ate breakfast and dinner together - every day. Meals were fun. Time to talk to Roxie about her day and make plans for the days ahead. When we convinced Roxie to eat something other than Mini wheats with strawberries for breakfast, I prepared oatmeal or “eggies” with toast before school, and whipped up blueberry pancakes or waffles on the weekends. Doug was our dinner chef, and always way more adventurous and enthusiastic about cooking after work than I.

We have little motivation to prepare meals that we can’t enjoy with Roxie. The challenge of cooking and clean-up is compounded by the daunting task of grocery shopping. Vons, Whole Foods & Trader Joes are a grieving parent’s worst nightmare. Every aisle is a reminder of Roxie’s favorite sweet treats, the look on her face the first time she bit into a pickle, the “Paw Patrol” band aids she would “need” to cover the nearly non-existent booboo on her knee, and of course, wherever you look, there are adorable children sitting in shopping carriages, enjoying the adventure of consumer overload with mom or dad.

I used to labor over reading labels and culling through the produce aisle, finding the healthiest, organic, non-GMO, low sugar, high protein snacks to fill Roxie’s lunchbox. Now, I sprint to make it to check-out before an ugly meltdown sets in.

Last Sunday, I attempted to prepare a “weekend” pancake breakfast for the first time since Roxie drowned. There were 2 eggs in the fridge and milk which had somehow not yet spoiled (I always add milk to my coffee). As I mixed together all of the dry ingredients, I realized we didn’t have any blueberries, or any sort of fresh fruit. I did not want that to discourage my efforts. I found a jar of maraschino cherries (most frequently used in our house for Old Fashioned cocktails).   

I think Roxie would have liked my cherry cakes. “More, mommy, more.”