Sometimes, you have to eat Rolaid Soup

My formative years were a weird dichotomy of first traveling the world and delighting in new sights and cultures, to life in rural Arkansas.

For most of my life, I have believed that the years my dad spent in the Air Force were the best and the years in rural Arkansas left me wanting. But each had its merits and played important roles in forming me into who I am today.

Daddy retired from the Air Force and we moved into a trailer house out on the farm. My dad never liked the feeling of being tied down and the concept of the trailer house was fantastic to him. You could have everything shiny and new, like a new car and when it grew too old, you just trade it in for the newer model. Which he did.

My mom was a wonderful, self-taught cook. One evening she made potato soup for dinner. To this day, her version of potato soup is one of my favorite comfort foods. The soup had been on the stove simmering, the aroma of onions and potatoes was enticing.

Rolaids went flying

My dad often suffered from heartburn and needed his Rolaids which, in the super-efficient space of the trailer kitchen, were stored in the tiny cabinet above the stove. When daddy reached for the bottle, it slipped from his hands and the lid flew open. Rolaids went flying. We watched in horror as the bulk of them landed in the big kettle of soup.

It never occurred to us that the soup was ruined and couldn’t be eaten. Living in the country, we couldn’t easily replace the meal. Fast food wasn’t on every corner. The soup would just have to be eaten. So, we all tucked in and no one complained that the delicious potato-oniony treat was overwhelmingly mint flavored.

Sometimes you just have to eat Rolaid flavored soup.

It tasted odd, but our bellies were full and satisfied. And no one got heartburn that night.

Life gives you circumstances that you don’t always agree with, but once you accept them, your life becomes better.

Embrace the for-better-or-worse

I have since learned to love the experience of rural Arkansas as much as I loved the experiences of England and Okinawa. Just as in marriage, life is a for-better-or-worse experience. Embrace those experiences. Love the life that is yours no matter what it offers you.

When life gives you arthritis and pain it’s hard to keep on the garden path. But the more you accept the circumstances and find ways to deal with the pain rather than fight it, the better off you’ll be. Love your life and all the quirky circumstances. Love your pain. Love your garden.

And love your Rolaid soup!