The word of the month is “sandwich” and every variation of the word — sandwiches, sandwiched, sand witch, and sandwicher. 

Why? 

Because I said so. 

Ok. So it doesn’t have to be every person’s word of the month but if I have to “observe” something as dumb as Valentine’s Day, then I for sure can have a month for sandwiches. 

I said in my post yesterday, I’ve put quite a hot minute of thought into this. Like corner cut triangles of delicious peanut butter and jelly on white bread, it just fits. 🥪 

Why? 

For one, at the start of this month my husband and I got into this groove of making high end sandwiches for dinner. We’re talking about corned beef and sauerkraut with Swiss cheese piled high on marble rye toasted and baked in the oven till it’s all crispy on the outside and ooey-gooey on the inside. Yeah. Like that. 

There’s fancy grilled cheese, ham and Swiss, buffalo chicken with ranch dressing, meatball marinara with mozzarella, and my son’s favorite, turkey with provolone. Who doesn’t love a good sandwich? (Besides my daughter 🙃). So many possibilities!

So that’s how it starts. But there’s more than one way to define a sandwich and a word can sometimes have multiple meanings. 

For instance, as of about two weeks ago I found myself sandwiched between two parents with life threatening chronic conditions. My mom and her cancer and my dad who has had heart disease for over 25 years but is now at critical mass with his need for surgical intervention. Without going into all the details, I’ll just say he’s going under the big knife very soon. Yeah, this designated daughter status has me feeling like I’m in a shit sandwich.

Not the most fun place to be. And not too unlike the parent / child sandwich I’m also in. As the parents become older they become less independent and need more help. On the flipside as the children become more independent, they need less help. But right now I’m in that middle place where both sets still need help and the more other people need from you the last time you have for yourself.

Of course I want to see my children be successful and I want for my parents to continue to thrive in their own homes, but there are weeks when it’s just a lot. You know. Like that sandwich that’s so large you can’t take a bite without making a mess.

This whole “sandwich” thing got really heavy really fast. Maybe this is why I didn’t wanna write about it. Maybe this is why I am staring at my phone right now without a clue what to say next.

Makes me want to look into the future…my future… as a sand witch. Yeah, a little over a month from now I’ll be bouncing away from freezing Nebraska and headed for the West Coast beaches of a tropical destination. If I could just focus on that for a minute, maybe that will lighten my mood.

It just seems like there’s a lot That needs to happen between now and then. First of all, there’s Christmas, and while that’s relatively low-key this year, it doesn’t come with a zero amount of work or anxiety. That said, not hosting anything at the house this year has definitely decreased my frequency of migraines.

I am looking forward to having both my kids here and maybe having a few game nights while my daughter is on break. The first one of those could be tomorrow night. I think that will also help my mood.

Shortly after Christmas, there’s Mfa residency, which I will be driving back-and-forth from four several events. Then, without even a full day to rest after graduation, the aforementioned open heart surgery is happening. I wonder if my brother will come home for that.

Where was I? Sandwiches? Sandwicher?

What the heck is a sandwicher? A person who has mastered crafting sandwiches of course.

I suppose the most important question in all of this is what kind of sandwich am I going to eat today? So many possibilities… so little time.

That’s gonna have to be it. Not as enlightening as I hoped, but they can’t all be winners.

Until next time, peace and love,

~Miss SugarCookie