Standing in the frozen vegetable aisle at 5:42 I scan the freezer shelves for French cut green beans to make green bean casserole

they don’t have them

[how food trends change over time. how my habits have evolved over time, I don’t remember the last time I bought frozen vegetables. everything before me now is air fryer this and pairs well with lean protein that —no French cut green beans to be found]

I’m only in this city market because I want to make something comforting that my mom would have made and they don’t even have the fucking green beans

and really I shouldn’t be making green bean casserole, my mom was a good cook; creative and frugal, healthy and fun

yet, here I am, crying in the frozen vegetable aisle on a Monday evening in early March

6 hours after she told me that the oncologist had confirmed what I already knew—soon my mother and I will be separated from each other by a great distance—

I settle for petite whole green beans 

I resign myself to longing,

while missing the comfort that still remains