Cold Spaghetti

I made spaghetti for dinner last night.  It was a quick meal, thrown together not long before needing to leave for Sunday evening service.  The pasta was still quite hot when I lumped it into tupperware to refrigerate, so I put it out to cool. Topped partially with a lid, I left it as we went to church then out for milkshakes with dear friends. We arrived back home later and I eyed the capellini and sauce. I checked the temperature, and of course it was completely cooled.  I ate a small chunk of the cold spaghetti, and instantly thought of my dad, transported to my parents’ kitchen island, standing, surveying littered leftovers.

Leftover consumption by my dad has always been a fine art. I can’t even begin to count the number of memories I have of him eyeing a bounty of tupperware, contemplating his coming dinner, which would always end up a funny concoction of the week’s previous meals. But there was always something about leftover spaghetti. It was special. I remember him many times heaping the pasta into a bowl.  It was ready for the microwave, yet he took his time, choosing other bits of this and that to complement his main dish.  All the while, he would pick at the cold spaghetti tupperware from which he had already dished his leftover dinner. My mom would wonder aloud if he’d be hungry for the cooked spaghetti after eating all the cold. I giggled to myself last night, as I did whenever I witnessed this taking place in my parents’ kitchen.

As I lidded my cheap Ikea tupperware full of cold spaghetti and memories, I wondered how many moments like this bring dad to mind that I don’t even notice. For a split second my eyes got misty, thinking maybe I wouldn’t be able to recall all the things that remind me of him till he’s gone. Cold spaghetti is just one. Hootie & The Blowfish (whose song we danced to at my wedding) is another.  A memory mushroom bloomed for a minute, as one recollection of him led to another.

I get to see him this weekend. Maybe we’ll get to eat cold spaghetti together. Even if we don’t, I’ll have to tell him how much I love that he does that.