I am about to do something I have never done before: give up wine for the duration of Lent. In general, I usually resist giving things up, especially things from which I derive so much pleasure and contentment.
"No!" my girls both exclaimed when I told them. "We like wine mom. She's happy. She's calm. She's... happy!"
I told them that I refuse to believe that there can be no happiness without wine. However, I understand their concern. It is my ritual to unwind with a glass, sip some more while I take my bath and melt into the night a lot less ragged than I start out.
Typically, I choose to add something during Lent--like exercise or daily devotions. I tell myself that I can benefit more from the addition than any subtraction. This year I'm mixing it up.
Tonite is my farewell glass of wine. I am soaking it up as I write this. Every ounce of pretentious wanna-be wine aficionado that exists within me is screaming to be heard. As I luxuriate in the velvet texture of the wine caressing my tongue, I exult in the vibrant fruit, followed with a lingering peppery finish.
I take a long sniff before each sip, and then roll the wine around in my mouth--drawing out the experience as long as possible. This may be the longest it's ever taken me to drink a glass of wine. (I think I can drag this out another five minutes or so!)
To give my daughters a light at the end of non-wine mom tunnel, I decided to mark the calendar hanging in the kitchen with the countdown of my Lenten sacrifice. As I numbered the days, I was delighted to get to '40' one whole week before Easter!
But I knew it was too good to be true.
I went online to investigate. Lo and behold, Lent does last 40 days; however, you cannot count Sundays--so you really end up depriving yourself for 47 days. FORTY-SEVEN!
You'd think that after 40 days, one more week wouldn't seem like much. But it does! Even on the eve of Day 1, with a full glass of wine of ahead of you!
I am weak.
I am sad.
I do not deny these things. (That's why I chose to give up wine, specifically, and not alcohol, in general--this gives me a beer and martini loophole!)
So, this is my Dear John letter to wine--for the next 47 days, at least (damn those Sundays!)
