The Deeper Meaning of Meatloaf Mondays

There are four meatloaves in the oven, and each one has a hard-boiled egg buried in the middle.

It’s Meatloaf Monday.

It started at Christmas. I decided to make the first Monday of each month Meatloaf Monday for my son’s partner. She loves meatloaf and I love her, so it seemed like a good present. Then I expanded the meat loaf recipients to include my other son, living on the far south side, and my grandson, living a few blocks from us. So three meatloaf deliveries tonight. One was for us.

Along with each meatloaf, mashed potatoes, cheese bread, and fresh sweet cherries. Next month I might add another side, like green beans. Oh, and this month’s meatloaf featured my dear mother-in-law’s tradition of putting a hard-boiled egg in her meatloaf. I loved the little tucking in of each egg.

We drive around town and deliver on Meatloaf Mondays. And so, while we are driving around, I think, why the heck am I doing this? First, I guess, it’s just about kindness, about doing something nice for no reason, showing up with a hot meatloaf for somebody who’s worked all day. But the other reason is way weirder. It came to me at a red light on the southside.

It’s about wrestling with enough.

A few days ago, our next-door neighbor’s mother died. She had had Alzheimer’s Disease for a very long time, and our neighbor and his partner took care of her, day in and day out. There’s a long story but suffice to say we’ve been neighbors for forty-two years. So, yeah. We squabble sometimes but they bring us tomatoes. There’s more to it than that, but you get the idea.

At the Italian fruit market, I bought the neighbors a bunch of carnations, a big container of chicken soup, Italian bread, and a bottle of wine and as soon as my husband handed the bag to our neighbor, I started in on the second guessing. I should’ve gotten them some chocolates, maybe some cookies. It would’ve been nice to have some great spreadable cheese with that bread. You know, no matter what, you’re falling just a bit short, friend.

It’s like that with Meat Loaf Mondays. I look in the bag about to be delivered and I think, there should be a big salad in there and maybe half a pie, and shouldn’t I have included a half stick of butter for the mashed potatoes? And I have to get over that. I have to be at home with what I have done in earnest, in kindness, and not make it a test, not everything is a test, one doesn’t have to be the best.

One can just be the person showing up with the meat loaf. That’s enough. I know that. I think.