My Favorite Chia Seed Pudding

I visited Marvin every day this week, as I do every week, and on Wednesday he had a window — a long one, longer than usual, twenty minutes, during which he looked at me and said, "Ruth, how are the kids?" The kids. He asked about the kids. He remembered that there are kids, that the kids are ours, that the asking about them is what you do. I told him. I told him about Ethan and Sophie and Noah and Hannah — their ages, their activities, their accomplishments — and he listened, and the listening was active, and the listening was Marvin, and for twenty minutes I had my husband back, the man who asked about the children and listened to the answer and cared about the details.

Then the window closed. He looked away. He looked at the television. He was gone — not gone, but returned to the place inside the disease where he lives most of the time now, the place I cannot reach, the place that has no visiting hours, the place that is not Cedarhurst and is not Oceanside and is nowhere I can find him. He is in there. I believe he is in there. The windows are the proof. But the windows are brief and the proof is fleeting and the rest of the time he is in the unreachable place, and I sit beside him and I bring the brisket and I talk and I wait for the next window.

I made a spring salad for dinner — mixed greens, strawberries, pecans, goat cheese. Light and simple and the opposite of the heavy emotional weight of the visit. The salad was bright and the evening was warm and I ate it on the porch and thought about the twenty minutes and filed them in the vault — the precious vault, the irreplaceable vault, the vault where I keep the windows and the words and the three-second recognitions and the twenty-minute conversations about the kids. The vault is my most valuable possession. The vault is worth more than the house.

The salad that night was enough — just enough — and I’ve been reaching for that same quiet simplicity all week. Chia seed pudding has become my version of that: something I can make with almost no effort, something that sits in the refrigerator waiting for me when I get home from Cedarhurst, something that feels like gentleness in a bowl. It doesn’t ask anything of me, and on the days when I’ve given everything I have to the visit and to the waiting and to the hoping, that is exactly what I need.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes + 4 hours chilling | Servings: 2

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups unsweetened almond milk (or milk of choice)
1/3 cup chia seeds
2 tablespoons pure maple syrup or honey
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Pinch of fine sea salt
Fresh berries, sliced strawberries, or mango, for topping
Toasted coconut flakes or chopped nuts, for topping (optional)

Instructions

Combine. In a medium bowl or large jar, whisk together the almond milk, chia seeds, maple syrup, vanilla extract, and salt until well combined.
Rest and stir. Let the mixture sit at room temperature for 10 minutes, then stir again to break up any clumps of chia seeds that have settled.
Chill. Cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight, until the pudding is thick and creamy.
Check consistency. Before serving, stir the pudding. If it’s thicker than you like, whisk in a splash of additional milk to loosen it.
Serve. Spoon into bowls or glasses and top with fresh berries, sliced strawberries, or mango. Add toasted coconut or nuts if desired. Serve immediately or keep refrigerated for up to 5 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

My Favorite Chia Seed Pudding — Something Light for a Heavy Day