One year ago today I was living on Cape Cod, blogging about my fourth gluten-free anniversary and contemplating a bowl of peppermint ice cream for breakfast. I was just getting the hang of this whole blogging thing, wondering if anyone would even be interested in the gluten-free recipes I wanted to share.
This morning I sit typing in my tidy New Mexico casita, sipping a mug of hot chamomile tea- a thousand miles away from one year ago. Dry snowflakes fall on the junipers outside my window. The Old Women Mesa is softened in a tender blanket of white.
Five years gluten-free. It's a milestone. And bittersweet.
I still do not eat out (the risk is too great for me; one speck of gluten and I pay for it all week). And I miss eating out- I miss the romance of it. I miss the spontaneity of exploring new restaurants. I miss travel. The social isolation, the stigma of special needs can feel heavy at times. Celiac disease does not exactly dampen one’s tendency toward introversion. The lingering health issues are discouraging. Forty-seven years eating gluten take their toll. My body continues, even after five years gluten-free, to pay a price from malabsorption.
In many ways my health has dramatically improved. I am free from the most acute symptoms I suffered. And cooking gluten-free has become second nature; it is no longer the massive challenge it felt like in the beginning. New gluten-free choices are emerging, daily, in the marketplace. All good news.
But the best part? Reading your comments and receiving your e-mails, Darlings. It nudges me out of my myopia and gives me a clearer sense of the big picture. I am not alone in this disease. And there are more of us diagnosed every single day.
So here’s to all of us.
Happy gluten-free anniversary! Whether it is one week, six months, or five years, I raise my glass to you.
