On Savoring

I hear it again today,
in the produce aisle this time.
“Savor every moment,” she says,
the smell of nostalgia
mingling with summer strawberries.

I know what she means.
But on this day
The overripeness stings my nose and
I can’t stop the sweat from
beading on all my fleshy parts.

This grocery list of All The Things
required to keep small people alive—
it’s like being served a giant chocolate cake
every single day.
Decadent, delicious . . . even enviable.

But how do you savor something
when there are five mouthfuls
stuffed in your cheeks at once?

How do you savor something
when you must consume every last bit,
even when you’re overfull?

My friend Sarah says,
she with the wise words and two steps ahead:
Savor one bite.
This bite.
The one on your fork right now.
You don’t have to savor them all at once.

So I grab a pint of strawberries
and reach deep
for a smile.

Maybe we’ll make strawberry shortcake
together.
And if some of the juicy ones end up
in the compost pile,
amen and so be it.
I will trust that even there,
they are not wasted.