Good Grief! Sometimes There Just Isn't Enough Lasagna

So when someone is down and out and needs some support, they typically get a meal from me. An easy one to double is lasagna.

Between family illnesses, surgeries and new babies, May and June were filled with "lasagnas" of one kind or another. Some were given, some received (remember, I yelled "Uncle!")

At a recent GAL-thering (congregation of women), a friend looked at me and said, "Man, you've got a LOT going on!" It took me a moment and then I skewed a Forrest Gump quote.

"Sometimes, there just isn't enough lasagna."

My youngest was pleased as punch to have an over abundance of her favorite dish which she refers to as "wizzonya." Perhaps that's what I could call Summer 08... The Summer of Wizzonya. All inferences welcome...

The funny thing about it is that I hadn't really put myself in the category of having that much piled on me. I can see way more piled on my loved ones. My eldest daughter had a similar situation this week. She was stung on the forehead by a deer fly and her whole face puffed to high bits. She looked like a Star Trek Klingon or Botox gone bad, but she couldn't see it or feel it. When I kept looking at her pitifully, asking if she was okay, she finally told me to knock it off. "I'm fine, Mom!"

It's hard to know that place of when concern turns to pity and when helping may imply you see helplessness. I suppose that's when intuition kicks in to let you know whether "I'm okay" really means "I'm okay" or not.

"When in doubt, go help out" is what I try to live by, even if I have to take my wizzonya and go home.

Talk to me. What do you think?