Comfort Soup

A few days ago, a dear friend showed up at our door with a batch of soup she had just made. That was such a nice thing to do, and it beautifully solved the dilemma of what to do about dinner that night. This afternoon we arrived at the home of my wife’s mother. Earlier in the day, a dear friend of hers showed up with a big batch of soup she felt inspired to make for us, and that fed a large group of us with soup to spare.

The soups were comforting because they provided dinners when needed, but they were also comforting at a deeper level. So many times when a friend or neighbor experiences a death in their family, I have a desire to do something to help, but don’t know quite what to do and often end up doing little or nothing. This week I have learned that it doesn’t matter so much what you do, but that you do something — whether that means bringing soup, or a casserole, or flowers, or a card, or a hug. Just knowing that people care, that they’re aware, that they’re concerned, and that they’re wanting to cry a little with you — that is tremendously comforting. We’ve also received cards, flowers, e-mails, phone calls, and neighbors dropping by to see if there is anything they can do. All of these gestures are greatly appreciated, and serve as a reminder that we are surrounded by friends and loved ones and we will get through this together much better than we ever could alone. That realization is a very soothing comfort soup.