Did you ever eat, taste, smell, see, hear something that brought back memories or at least reminded you of someone? This morning, tired of exactly the same old, same old for my breaking fast, I decided on a couple pieces of healthy bread (there’s a difference between gooey, gummy white stuff and whole grain bread.) Next, I used some substitute butter, low in fat and sodium on this bread. (Don’t tell my guy about this.) Then I put some delicious honey on top of that. Don’t tell him about that one either. Yes, it has “sugar” but it is a natural sweetener, nature made. (Like, oh for Pete’s sake.) Anyway, when I bit into the toast, I remembered clearly my visits to my paternal grandmother. We would play Chinese checkers and eat honey and bread.
I was fortunate enough to live close to both sets of grandparents so I visited this particular grandmother as often as possible. I knew she was the adult and in charge but she never made me feel that way. We shared things like we were a couple of friends. I’m sure she must have let me win at Chinese checkers but I don’t remember that part because winning was not the objective. Bing with her was. She made me feel so welcome, so loved, so appreciated. I craved that as a child. My parents seemed to have too many worries and upsets to really give me the attention I often wanted or maybe needed. Grandparents can be excellent gap closers for their grandchildren. They can fill in the blanks and holes that a child might feel is lacking a bit in their lives. If nothing else, they can enhance a child’s experience of growing up.
I haven’t been that kind of grandparent really. That’s pretty sad when I think about it. I guess being a young grandmother those years going to college, working, and not being the type to perpetuate the hausfrau role I had done since I was 17 sent me spinning off in another direction. I think they fared as well as any child in their particular and separate lives without me. But who knows what a difference I could have made?
Life was different in my grandparent’s day. Still, I ask myself what my grandchildren remember about me. They may not have any great memories of some fantastic time we had together. That is a bit sad to me but one cannot undo what one has done. It is/was what it is/was.
Toasting and coasting down memory lane this fine morning. Not a bad way to start the day.