Just like the recovery after the loss of a great love, I’ve spent nearly a year missing something that is as much a part of my life as oxygen and water. At the sudden end of a passionate love affair, there is a yearning and a heart breaking that can only be felt, not described. When the heart is broken beyond repair, the body physically hurts, as if almost to compensate for an unseen emotional wound. If you’ve ever known and lost love this strong, you feel my pain.
The love I’ve been withdrawing from for nine months was joyously rekindled on Friday night at 7:23. It’s as if we never were apart. No, it’s not a man or a best friend that I’ve been missing. It’s simply, and most powerfully, wine. Wine is a part of my business, my leisure, and a major factor in my sanity. From the moment I learned I was pregnant with my second child, there was never a doubt that this integral part of who I am had to be put on a hiatus until the baby arrived. As it should be, for the entirety of my pregnancy, not one drop of alcohol touched my lips.
On some nights, I felt like a chef without a spoon. I spent much of my time at dinners with my husband sniffing his wine while practically tasting the winemaker’s genius as I inhaled. I even taught a few wine pairing classes while I sadly sipped on sparkling water. Even at a much-awaited celebratory dinner, I raised my glass full of lemonade and toasted to my new business endeavor.
With our sweet and perfect baby now at home, I pour from my favorite bottle with the zeal and zest of a child in a toy store. I’ve been waiting, for what seemed like an eternity, for this lover of mine to return. After all, isn’t a love lost and found far stronger than one that was here all along?