Matzah Balls Are Better As A Pair

I have failed my last, but most important health test.

I felt well enough in the morning to get ready for yesterday's 2nd Annual Illinois Walk-Run N Roll for TM research. The weather was perfect. I wore my winter coat so I was toasty the whole way. When I got up to the pavilion, two of my sisters and their families turned out to walk with me. Of course Shellie was there to tote my bags, and Nik did the legwork.

As if participating, seeing the kids with grins from ear to ear, and spending time with my loved ones were not enough, I got to meet my dear friend Patti from Minnesota. She spotted me first by my trademark crocheted hat and I glanced over to see a woman making her way towards me as fast as her bone and skull walking cane could carry her.

Of course, it was Patti. I met her on a TM chat site, and it turned out that we were both masters of the macabre. Patti's twisted sense of humor always makes me laugh. We all tried to stay together around the track, but the group invariably spread out as everyone walked at their most comfortable pace.

After the walk, and receipt of our victory medallions, Patti and I got to talk and hug until it was time to go our separate ways. Up until the very last moment, I was hoping to go out for a celebratory lunch with my sisters, but I didn't feel like I could get through it.

We listened to the Bears game on the ride home and as soon as we got inside, I got into bed. But what about the health test?

My sister Debbie brought us a huge container of partially defrosted matzah ball soup. After they got me into bed, Shellie and Nik put the soup into a stockpot and started a low flame underneath. Over the course of a few hours, the soup melted, heated, and then came up to a simmer. When the soup was laid out, as well as a fresh loaf of challah, Nik got me eagerly in my wheelchair and up to the table. Sitting before me was a big bowl filled with chunks of tender carrots and celery, meaty pupiks, a clear, pale stock, and two beautiful matzah balls.

I dug right in, alternating between veggies, chicken, and spoonfuls of matzah ball. I finished my first and was about to break into the second, even harboring notions of a third, when all of a sudden I realized I had had enough. I couldn't eat a second matzah ball. That's when I knew all hope for me was lost.