Living (truly) in a Meat-Free Zone

I have been in my condo now a little less than a month, and among all the other emotional rides I have been experiencing the last few weeks with this situation, it struck me the other day as I was staring at my Meat-Free Zone magnet on my fridge that I am now truly living in a meat-free zone.

I have had that meat-free magnet for years on the fridge at the townhouse that my soon-to-be-ex husband now owns. I had stuck it on the freezer door even though it really wasn't a meat-free zone at the time. So many times I had to reach over cellophane-wrapped fish corpses to get to my Gardein chicken scallopini. Or worse, freezer-bagged sausages a.k.a. pig body parts, set aside for my husband's favorite dishes. I shudder just to recall those moments.

Perhaps I am just desparately seeking a bright side to this dark, painful process of marital separation and divorce, but it does give me some pleasure to see in my freezer only veggies, Gardein beefless tips, Candle Cafe entrees, leftover veggie chili...not a single animal part or entrail to be found. I wish that fleeting pleasure was enough to lift me from the sadness that permeates my soul every day as I look around and see how alone I am. The constant ache of aloneness can hardly be eradicated by the vegan inventory of my fridge (and my cabinets for that matter.) But it is something, I suppose, and the rebuilding of a life, and the search for happiness must start somewhere, even with trivial matters such as the contents of my pantry.