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Taking Care of the Leftovers

Taking Care of the Leftovers

When I was a little girl, any time my brother and I didn’t clean our plates, my dad would eat our leftovers. I always thought my dad was a great giant of a man (even though he’s only average height and weight) and I always marveled at how he could put away SO MUCH FOOD. These days, my dad doesn’t eat as much as he used to, which probably isn’t a terrible thing, but it got me thinking recently about what happens to the leftovers at my house. At my house, when my kids don’t finish what’s on their plate, I try to not waste it and eat as much of it as I can, but inevitably, some of it gets thrown away. The food that went untouched goes in the refrigerator where it inevitably gets left until it is no longer edible (or sometimes recognizable). Unfortunately, even at my hungriest, I don’t have the capacity to use up those leftovers.  Which brings me to the wandering analogy that’s been sticking to the side of my brain. It’s not just the food – it’s the leftovers of life, the little overabundances, that can’t be taken care of by one person.
When you’re a single mom, the leftovers get, well, left. The things I can’t take care of on my own, the needs I don’t have the energy to attend to, the extras, tend to be left, either tossed away or stored in the back where they become forgotten. Single moms are good at taking care of what’s necessary. They’ll put food on the table and money in the bank, someway and somehow. They’ll put clothes on their children’s backs and blankets on their beds. They’ll get them bathed and help them with homework, read to them and make sure they get enough sleep. They’ll work themselves ragged to do what needs to be done. But then, there are those pesky leftovers.
The handmade Valentine’s day cards and Christmas presents.
The extra time doing math and spelling practice.
The time-consuming sports and activities.
The organic, home-cooked meals.
The PTO meetings, bake sales, and fundraisers.
Long quiet moments, basking in the presence of their children, without care or worry.
The filling of their own buckets, left empty from pouring out over and over and over and over again.
Who takes care of the leftovers?
It’s lonely and exhausting taking care of the necessities alone and heartbreaking to feel like there’s never going to be enough of you to do all the things other mothers and fathers can do for their children. But, truth be told, there are a lot of leftovers from her plate, too. Leftover love that goes to waste. Leftover joy that isn’t shared. Leftover heartache that isn’t consoled. Leftover generosity that doesn’t have the time or resources to be spent.
Somewhere, there’s a parallel universe where the leftovers are used and not wasted. Somewhere, there’s a place where those leftovers are part of a fulfilling, beautiful existence.
Somewhere, there’s two parents sitting at a table, seamlessly filling in each other’s gaps to make their family whole.

Somewhere.

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