~Caldo de Res~

Caldo de Res

Death filled the room. The strength in my body perished. Covid had attacked me and was leading me to my demise. All hope in me had vanished.

Then abruptly my mother appeared and said, “Do not fret my son, for I am here.” She was beginning to prepare a meal for me. A warm soup. I thought it was futile but as I lay there slumped on the couch clinging to life, my mother's cooking was my only option. 

She grabbed a pot and began to pour water into it, adding the tearful onion and pungent garlic along with sprinkling it with crisp salt. As she had started to boil it I lay there like roadkill thinking it would be in vain and that no soup would cure nor give me life. Resilient, my mother cut the beef into miniature pieces, added it to the pot, boiling it again. 

“This is pointless,” I tell myself, “I'll just take medicine. That'll have a better effect than this.” 

Once boiled, carefully my mother removed the foamy broth and reduced the heat allowing it to cook for an hour. Laying there miserably knowing I could neither smell nor taste the food, I no longer paid any mind to it and entered a slumber as my body needed rest. 

While in my rest I dreamt of the days my body was healthy. When I could jump and run. When I could breathe and enjoy food. Reminiscing brought me to tears and I felt weak and pathetic knowing all I could do was dread it, unable to run from it. 

I awake to the clangs of the pot and the chops of the knife cutting. My mother had begun to cook again. I observed my mother adding corn, and juicy tomatoes, in addition to the tomato and beef bouillon. Seeing her try so vigorously to cook a meal that would do me good, lit something inside of me and I realized that I shouldn't surrender so easily without betting on all of my options. I put my complete trust in my mother and her cooking as she has not given up on me. 

She allows the food to cook longer returning to add chayotes, carrots, and potatoes. With each vegetable added I could see and feel the warm fondness my mother was putting into it. She lets them sit for a while, returning to add the Mexican squash, green beans, and cilantro, mixing them throughout the soup. 

To finish my mother examines the food and its quality adding lastly the cabbage and letting it cook for another 5 final minutes. Alas, the meal was done.

My mother brings me the soup, blessing it before I consume the caldo de res. There I lay, thanking God for a mother who gives me the strength and courage to fight. Though I could not taste it, I could feel the soft texture of this soup and could feel the care my mother put into it savoring every last bit of it. As I consumed it feeling my mother's love in it, I realized I should not only fight for my life because it's mine but because my life also belongs to those who care for me and cherish my presence and that no disease nor pain will make me yield.