Bread and Cheese - 2020

I had bread and cheese for dinner tonight.

Don't be fooled by how bland that sounds. It was the most delicious meal I've had in a long time.

I'm alone, but reminded strongly of the times when Ed and I took the bus up to Crested Butte and hung around all day. We didn't have enough money for a restaurant, but we would stop by the grocery store for lunch, buying the simplest things to make the simplest lunches, but it always seemed better than anything that could have been experienced in an overly-crowded eatery.

One of my professors always stressed how social of an act eating was. You always did it with people that you either wanted to know more, or people you already knew. Eating isn't something that you simply do no matter where you are or who you're with. It's something that you make an effort to do in the company of those you love and appreciate.

Although, when those people aren't there, you just tend to imagine, and remember the good times you had with them, and even if you're eating things that seem plain and bland, you remember that those people were and are with you, no matter where or what you are eating. The memory of Ed is so strong that I think I see him sitting across from me, his mouth moving mildly around the clump of homemade dough and sharp cheddar, and I have to do a double take to make sure that he's not really on the other side of the stone I'm using as a table.

I shake my head and continue to pile the slice I'm holding with chunks torn off of the great brick of cheese lying on the rock. It must be that cheese is channeling his spirit. Even though I don't know where he is now, or how he's doing, I can always imagine throwing ideas at him and watching them bounce off of his passive head. His ghost, too, refuses to contribute much opinion, but is always there to listen.

Like always.