I just needed to find the frozen dinner rolls and I would be all set. I was making ham biscuits. Ham biscuits that I really liked. They were savory and easy. As a bonus it was a Lynchburg recipe, a Junior League of Lynchburg recipe. Yummy!
Where were they? I walked up and down the aisle with Susie, searching. Searching for something that was not going to be found because it wasn’t there. “You know, the ones that are in the round foil tray? The yeasty ones?” “What about these?” she countered. “No it has to be this certain kind.” And so once again we walked up and down the aisles, perusing the end caps, but still coming up empty handed.
“Could you just use some of the refrigerated ones? You know, roll them out and make them?” I wasn’t so sure. “Maybe Safeway has them…”
So we drove across the street to look. I walked down the aisle and found the space where the frozen breads were located. Nothing. Well, they had rolls, but not the ones I needed. Sister Schubert was nowhere to be found. I pressed my hands up against the glass and peered in, willing them to be there.
Please. I thought. This is so small and so silly, but it matters to me. It matters because it’s the way I always do it. It matters because sometimes it slams into me like a semi truck that I am not home, and things are not the same. I need this to be the same.
I woke up and checked my email. A cute picture from a friend, a thank you email. It was silly and fun. And then I felt homesick for the way things used to be. Because I still do sometimes. I think everyone does, whether you’ve been somewhere forever or just for awhile.
Nothing remains the same but somehow in between the low moments of not wanting to let go there are divine peaks that allow you to look out over the sum of your journey and see just how beautiful it all is – way back when, right now, and even what is to come.
*Christmas photos: 2007-2010 – Extra proof that change is deliciously and wonderfully good.