Today was one of those more unusual mom days. Earlier in the week I got a text from an in-town mom asking if I’d be able to fill in for her Thursday serving lunch at the high school. After asking for more details, I learned that for the past several months, some of the upperclassman moms have been doing a Thursday lunch fundraiser to raise money for prom. The recruiting and organizing has been done on Facebook, which would explain why I had no idea anyone was even doing this.

I said I would do it, and it was actually really fun. Every Thursday three moms serve a meal that is homemade one week, and picked up from a restaurant another week. The high school has a kitchen, but not a regular lunch program. For between $5-8 depending on the meal, students and teachers can sign up for lunch. Today they had potato soup, toppings, and rolls. As much as I have mentioned over the years how cooking isn’t exactly my passion, I actually feel quite at home in more commercial and industrialized kitchens.

Within minutes of the third mom entering the kitchen the three of us standing there were all close to tears. One was talking about the bittersweet realities that come along with senior year. Another mentioned her late husband and teared up, as he has only been gone a little over a year. The other had been a single mom for most of her child’s life, and she spoke of the various jobs she has had to try and keep a flexible schedule in order to be with her son as much as possible.

It really just made think about how different people’s lives are. Josh came into the kitchen on his way out from teaching. Both moms mentioned to me how handsome my husband is, and my son with his chiseled features. Of course I know this and I agreed with them. There is a type of compliment, a form of truth-telling, that isn’t offensive. During first lunch I went and said hi to my daughter and her friends. I know their names, but would not have been able to match them all with a face. Today I learned and won’t forget.

I said hi to my son and his table too. Later when I’d gotten home I was sitting next an open window when I noticed it was chilly. I emailed him to see if he was good on having enough clothes. There was a baseball game later this afternoon. They played in the cold, sporadic light drizzle. We brought a long-sleeve shirt along for him to wear underneath his uniform. Dad had put on plenty of layers and the boys and I brought extra blankets. It was a fuller day including more activities with others.

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