Heather’s Blog

I am what is considered a foodie.

Definition: someone who enjoys food for pleasure.

I seek food experiences as a hobby rather then just necessity.

I wasn’t always that way. When Scott and I first got married, I would make lunches and suppers each day. I wanted us to be a proper family.

Except I wouldn’t say my food repertoire was refined as of yet. I did make lots of bread from our new bread maker. So good but left us 17 pounds heavier.

I settled down when Ryan was born. We were going to eat family friendly meals in preparation to his introduction of solids.

Starting him on sweet potatoes…. perhaps a parenting fail.

Ryan’s favourite line to everyone much to our horror was” I don’t like delicious …. I like junk food”. I still shake my head in abject embarrassment.

Parenting is like a reoccurring nightmare sometimes. With children, you always feel like you are having that dream where you are walking in public naked.

Scott and I grew in our kitchen adventures to a more sophisticated palette. Crepes to beef Wellington, we (Scott ) made it all.

And yet everyday was the same.

“What are we having for dinner ?”

Finally my response was an automatic “ Yuck I don’t like this and I can’t believe I have to eat this crap”. Honestly, my darlings we have the same thing every night.

Imagine my everlasting joy when Ryan and his taste buds expanded. Finally!

Some of my most recent memories is sitting around dinner with Ryan, enjoying his favourite meal and a bottle of red wine. Ah… the sophistication! Okay I will grant you the wine was free and included with the meal.

Despite my passion for food, the first 2 weeks that Ryan was reported missing, I could eat nothing more then soup. In my mind, if my son couldn’t eat , be warm or sleep then neither shall I.

Such things are not sustainable. Nor would Ryan wouldn’t want my grief to encapsulate me.

Such irony, I love food but can’t taste the pleasure as of late.

Food can be nourishment for the body but also for the soul. Memories made from the gatherings of friends and family.


Each night, we place a food offering out for Ryan. To call his spirit home.

Baby boy it’s time to come home.