18 Reasons Why I Haven’t Lost Weight
1. Because if I crunch enough of these potato chips it might drown out the house full of people who have shown up to say they are sorry. I offer them some of my chips.
2. Because chicken noodle soup, even with extra noodles, can’t really cure everything but damned if I’m not going to try.
3. Because the mirrors are already covered up for shiva, so I won’t have to see the extra chin I’ve acquired.
4. Because it’s too difficult to count calories when I’m busy counting books as I pack them up into banker boxes. I am up to fifty-one boxes.
5. Because my heart broke and rainbow cookies keep showing up as more people come to make a shiva call. But no matter how bright the red, green and yellow layers, all is gray.
6. Because if I eat enough Jeni’s Blackout Chocolate Cake ice cream I can become big enough to fill not just my seat but his as well at Ari’s college graduation and Max’s wedding and my book launch and Dave’s retirement party and all the simchas to come.
7. Because egg rolls, falafel, and apple fritters are indicative of my physical and mental state. Fried.
8. Because tacos fall apart as easily as I do.
9. Because pastrami on rye is salty enough to mask the taste of my own tears.
10. Because the skin of barbecued chicken crackles. The meat almost tender. The core raw. Especially when he was at the grill.
11. Because schnitzel makes sense when coated in grief.
12. Because Orville Redenbacher’s Butter Gourmet microwave popcorn seems appropriate given that my world has been nuked.
13. Because I can’t track grams of protein and carbs when I’m busy tracking down investment accounts, retirement benefits, and vintage furniture stores that might be interested in his mid-century modern bedroom set.
14. Because brisket is so tender it falls off the bone. Like I do.
15. Because pizza.
16. Because we need ten people to say Kaddish and these decadent chocolate truffles are worthy of being worshiped. I decide eating them is like a minyan in my mouth.
17. Because grief is an acquired taste that becomes more palatable with each sip.
18. Because my father died.
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Debbie Feit is an accidental mental health advocate, unrelenting Jewish mother and author of The Parent’s Guide to Speech and Language Problems (McGraw-Hill) in addition to texts to her kids that go unanswered. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, Five South, Passengers Journal and on her mother’s bulletin board. She has been a reader for Five Minutes, an advertising copywriter, and a person who used to be able to sleep without pharmaceutical intervention. Read about her thoughts on mental health issues, her life as a writer and her husband’s inability to see crumbs on the kitchen counter on Instagram @debbiefeit or at debbiefeit.com.
Thank you for sharing. This is beautiful.