A Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich
I reached over for the roll of paper towels, unravelling it once my hand met its coarse surface and tearing off two separate sheets. I placed them on the counter in front of me, before looking around for the loaf of bread that I bought the day before. Of course, I looked in the usual bread spot first, but it wasn’t there. Normally I was a creature of painfully strict habit, but every once in a while, usually if I was in some sort of rush, I would misplace something I normally wouldn’t.
I
walk over to the fridge, opening it up to find my prize inside; the ingredients
I needed were all newly bought and were contained within a grey grocery
bag. I removed it from the fridge,
shutting it with a swift hook of my leg behind me. Back at the counter, I removed the three
contents of the bag, placing them above the sheets of paper towel; a fresh loaf
of white bread, a jar of light peanut butter and a smaller jar of strawberry jam.
Opening
the plastic bag that held the bread, I pulled out four, fluffy pieces, and placed
them on the paper towel sheets on the counter.
After quickly rummaging through my utensil drawer, I pulled a butter
knife out of it, and began generously applying peanut butter to every slice of
bread. The slightly sweet, earthy scent
wafted up to my nostrils as I spread it evenly across all four pieces of bread. I made sure that there was an adequate amount
on each piece, but not too much; nobody wanted the gooey, tan substance mucking
up their hands.
Once
the peanut butter was slathered on the bread, I opened the jar of strawberry
jam, and placed a teaspoon-sized dollop on two pieces of bread, using the
underside of the spoon to spread it out evenly.
This was another crucial step, as putting too much jam on the sandwich
would cause the sweet red substance to ooze out of the bottom of the sandwich
with every bite, making your hands a sticky mess and potentially ruining a
shirt or pair of pants; I might be speaking from multiple experiences.
I
closed both sandwiches with a satisfying, gooey press, and placed them into
separate plastic bags. After putting
away the ingredients, I scribbled something quickly onto the one bag, before
putting both sandwiches into a small grocery bag and leaving my home. I made sure to lock up before entering my
car.
As
I began to back out of my driveway, I thought back to the night that Dan
invited me over for dinner, the first and only time he had ever done that. It came out of nowhere, but on September 7th,
2019, I joined my oldest friend for a home-cooked meal; an event that spawned a
new tradition on the seventh of every month.
“Voila! Dinner is served; bon appétit.”
Dan placed a small plate with a
peanut butter and jelly sandwich on my lap as he sat on the opposite end of his
sectional. It looked to be hastily put
together, with traces of peanut butter smeared on parts of the crust. It was also overfilled with jelly, as it was
oozing out the sides, and especially through the center cut. He looked at me with a cautious optimism as I
stared hesitantly at the plate in front of me.
I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he was staring at me with a
wavering smile on his face; his eyes were wide, and frankly, he looked scared
almost.
“Thanks,
Dan.”
I grabbed the first piece of the
sandwich and took a large bite out of it.
Once I did so, Dan took an enthusiastic large bite of out his own
sandwich.
“Mmm,
isn’t that just the best?”
I chewed on my mouthful, searching
for some sign of individuality; maybe Dan made everything from scratch, and
this whole sandwich was something that he had worked hard to create. But the more I chewed, the more I realized
that this all was simply store-bought ingredients, and this was just an
ordinary PB&J. I didn’t have an
issue with it, I did like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but I hardly
thought it was something you could acceptably serve to a guest, especially for
dinner.
“Yeah,
it’s good, dude.”
I shot him a gentle smile, one that
I hoped would reassure him. I didn’t
want him to think he messed up or anything that would cause him to spiral. Unfortunately though, he saw through my
façade and spiralled anyways.
“Sorry
about this man, I bet you were expecting something more when I invited you
over.”
He wasn’t wrong, but I could never
tell him that.
“It’s
alright man, but if you didn’t have ingredients or something, I could have
brought food; I could have helped you cook.”
Dan sat down on the chair seated
across from me in the room, dropping all of his bodyweight into the seat as he
plopped; the chair barely moved though, since his small frame barely had any
mass to it. He stared at the sandwich in
his hands for an eternity, before small drips leaked from his eyes.
“I
just wanted to do something nice for you, just to say thanks for everything
you’ve done for me. It’s just…”
I stood up and rushed over to my
friend. He was crying much harder than
he should be, but I knew why he was; life had been too hard for him lately, and
no amount of pills or hours of therapy could erase all of the bad. But I was there for him, just like he was
there for me anytime life sucker-punched me.
I was at his side in an instant, and hugged him as hard as I could,
while trying not to smush his sandwich.
“Dan,
you don’t have to thank me, you never do.
I know lately the hand you were dealt hasn’t been good, but you know I’m
always here for you.”
He tensed as I spoke, he always did
when he was in this state. He hated
feeling like this, I knew that he did, but it was hard for him not to
lately. I exaggerated my breathing,
coaching him to slow his down. Once he
started to calm, I released the embrace; God, he looked like he hadn’t slept in
a week.
“It’s
just that I’ve been so damn tired lately, and the closer today came, the more I
realized how underprepared I was; every time I tried going to the store, I was
overwhelmed and couldn’t bring myself to go out.”
His head slumped down as he caught
it with his open palms; as his shoulders rose and fell with his breathing, his
shoulders were hitching as his breath caught in his throat. I heard soft sobs
coming through his hands, and I was frozen in place, not sure what to do. Despite everything that Dan had been through,
he always kept his composure. Seeing it
falter like this scared me.
“Dan… It’s ok.
I’m glad I could spend time with you, isn’t that what matters? You really didn’t have to do anything big for
me.”
I meant it, he really didn’t. Most of the time we just sat together and
played games while watching old, bad movies.
Sometimes we would listen to music and vibe with the tone too. But no matter what, we would talk and help
each other through the tough times; this was no different. I sat back at my seat, carefully perching
myself on the edge.
“I
scrambled this morning, thinking of what I could do. I was going to order something, but I thought
that would be disingenuous. But I always
keep supplies for PB&J’s, they have so much flavour and have a decent
amount of nutrition in them; sometimes it’s the only thing that I can stomach.”
He took a small bite of his
sandwich, which made him smile slightly in an instant. This warmed my heart, and provoked a thought;
if all I wanted was for him to be happy and comfortable, then we should embrace
this moment.
“Well,
if you’re ok with this, then so am I! I
was just worried this wouldn’t be enough for you.”
He smiled at what I said, wiping
away his tears with the sleeve of his oversized sweater; I remember when that
sweater fit him perfectly. I grabbed my
plate and stood up, reseating myself beside him; I draped an arm over his
shoulders and pulled him in closer to me, it seemed like something he needed in
that moment. We sat there for a while
before I loosened the embrace and we resumed our upright seated positions.
“Yeah,
this is enough for me, always is. I
thought it would be nice to just sit back, relax, and enjoy a peanut butter and
jelly sandwich with my oldest friend; my best friend.”
Dan took another bite of his
sandwich, making a slight groan of delight as he did so. As he sat there, relishing in his meal, I
reflected on what he had just said, on how he wanted to enjoy a PB&J
together. I had never thought about food
that way before, and the implications that went along with it. Sure, I liked food, and even loved a couple
different meals and snacks, but I didn’t think that I had ever just focussed on
enjoying my meal. So, I mimicked my
friend; I closed my eyes and took my second bite of my sandwich.
Not to sound dramatic, but that
second bite changed my life. I felt how
soft the bread was when I tore into it with my teeth. I tasted every savoury note of the thick
peanut butter, savouring the unique taste of the substance. The sweet strawberry jam mingled with the
peanut butter to create a perfect compliment on my tongue. Never in my life had I ever experienced food
like this; never had solely enjoyed a meal and focused my senses on it like
this.
“Dude,
you might be onto something here. That
might have been the tastiest bite I’ve ever had!”
An instant smile formed across his face,
giving him an appearance of a happy, anthropomorphic chipmunk. That smile was all I needed to see; knowing
that I brought the smallest sliver of joy into his hard life was the best thing
I could do. We sat there in silence for
the rest of the meal, but it was a silence of understanding. Words didn’t need to be spoken as we enjoyed
every aspect of the sandwich together.
It wasn’t until we were finished that the first word was spoken.
“Thanks
for always being here for me. I know
that it’s not always easy, but I want you to know that I always appreciate it.”
He placed his plate on the table and
hugged me tighter than he ever had. It
was in that moment that it fully hit me how small he had become; how fragile he
felt. I knew that he wasn’t well, and
maybe the medication was partially to blame, but I didn’t realize he was as bad
as he was. I just hoped the darkness
would leave him and he would start to get better. But even if that never happened, I would
still be here for him.
“Of
course Dan, I’ll always be around for you.”
That
was the start of our monthly pact; no matter what we were doing, we would
always take time out of our day to meet up on the seventh of every month to
enjoy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich together. Most of the time we would spend the day or
the evening together, but on occasion, life would get in the way. When this happened, we would meet up for only
half an hour or so, enough time for us to take our time. Enough time to enjoy.
I tried telling some other friends
and family about our tradition, about the meaning behind it and how it was a
great way to shut down for a brief time, but most couldn’t understand. This was fine by me, but after a while I
stopped trying to explain it to anyone.
It was something special that Dan and I shared, and that’s what truly
mattered to me.
As I reminisced, I found myself
arriving at my destination. I exited my
car, not forgetting to grab the sandwiches as I did so. As I closed the door, I took a deep breath
in, filling my head with the scent of freshly mowed grass as I mustered up the
strength to continue on. Began to walk
forward, giving a curt nod to the groundskeeper as I did so. I didn’t know what the man’s name was, but
after the last seven months, he recognized me every time I came here. I walked on the trimmed turf aisle between
the sturdy, rocky markers; there was a soft breeze rustling the leaves of the
nearby trees. I could only try to keep
calm as I moved on, taking deep, slow breathes with each step. But by the time I arrived, my breath hitched
in my throat.
“Hey
Dan, it’s been a bit.”
I sat down on the grass, the thought
of the fresh cuts staining my jeans crossed my mind only for a moment but was
quickly chased out by a feeling of melancholy.
It never got easier, visiting Dan here, but it was something that I
found I needed to do. I looked at the
granite monolith looming across from me and admired on how it still had a
polished shine to it. I read the letters
carved into it, as I did every time I was here; I knew what they said, but a
part of me thought that one day it would say a different name, and I would have
my friend back.
Daniel Seymore Gallivan
December 24th,
1990 – February 4th, 2021
Cherished son,
beloved friend
I took one of the filled plastic
bags out of the larger grocery bag, and carefully exposed the top of my
sandwich. I began to lift the sandwich
to my lips but had to pause before I could start my meal. I wasn’t aware I was even doing it, but the
tears that were flooding my vision were telling my that I wasn’t dealing with
this as well as I thought I would. I
wiped my eyes with my sleeve, before closing them, taking a deep breath in as I
did so. The exhale was shaky as I
attempted to deliver a slow, steady stream of air. The second breath was a lot better, as I
found myself calming down. Once I was no
longer trembling, I brought the sandwich to my mouth, and took my first bite.
It
was just like the first time we had them; it was always like the first time. The perfect combination of sweet and savoury,
and oh was it ever so ever soft.
I
had no plans for the day, and would take as long as I needed to. I missed Dan more than I had ever missed a
single person. He and I knew each other
our whole lives, and in the years since his death, I found myself struggling
more times than not. Some people
understood what I was going through, but more times than not, people thought it
was strange I would eat a children’s snack in a cemetery once a month. I paid no mind to that though; they were free
to have their opinions.
As
weird as it was, there was a peace I always felt when I visited Dan that I
could never find anywhere else. At first
the visits were rough, and I thought I couldn’t go through with these visits
anymore. I mean, I wanted to try to
enjoy the sandwich in the same way he taught me how to, but I was too upset to
do so. After I had a breakdown during my
fourth or fifth visit, the next one felt… different. As I sat down next to his tombstone, I felt
relief from the grief I was feeling, and ever since that day, I had found a
calm whenever I visited Dan.
This
time was no exception. I took in my
surroundings as I chewed my sandwich; I felt the cool breeze on my skin that
combined with the light heat from the sun.
It was a perfect day, and I was glad I could spend it with my
friend. As I sat, I swore I could feel a
hand on my shoulder, clasping down reassuringly as the weights I had been
carrying released from my shoulders. I
glanced over at my shoulder, hoping to see a hand there, but alas, there was
not.
“Really
wish you were here, man. Things aren’t
the same anymore.”
I stared at the grass beneath me,
stroking the fine blades with my fingers.
It was lonely, and I hated it; I wish he was here with me. I looked at the white sandwich in my hand,
with the soft brown spread mixing with the seedy red jelly as it oozed out of
the sides. I held it up to the sky with
a smile.
“At
least we still have this. Cheers.”
After that I didn’t speak, I didn’t
need to. The weather was perfect as I
sat in that cemetery, I simply closed my eyes and let the moment wash over
me. I thought about my times with Dan,
all of the great moments we shared together.
I even thought about all of the hard times that we were there for each
other; my mind even wandered to his final days, and how I wish with all of my
being that I could have known those were the last times I would have seen
him. I would have done anything he
wanted to do, just to bring a little more light into his dark life.
The more I thought about this, the
harder it was to eat my sandwich. Tears
squeezed out from between my closed eyelids as I tried to let my sadness
go. This was a pleasant moment and Dan
wouldn’t want me to waste it. I focused
on each bite, and how delicious each chew was.
As I savoured my sandwich, I felt a
presence standing behind me, one that made me think Dan was here with me. I wanted more than anything to look, but if I
did, the illusion could be shattered. So
I would sit here, enjoying my sweet and savoury peanut butter and jelly
sandwich, while I sat here with my best friend.
If
you are ever with me Dan, please make yourself known to me, I miss you so damn
much.
The wind blew through the trees,
causing the leaves to rustle and create a soft melody reminiscent of running water. Through the calming noise, my thoughts
vacated my head and were replaced by the sensory experience I was having. But in the middle of my chews, I heard a
quiet noise that played a trick on my ears.
For the briefest moment, I could have sworn I heard a voice.
“Cheers, my friend."
- Cody S
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