“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment.
Until it becomes a memory.”
When Gmamma died, lovely people brought lovely food to the apartment at Shannondale, and it was most appreciated. My advice to you if you’re wondering what to do when someone dies is to act first and ask questions later. If you ask the bereaved if they need anything, they will answer politely that they do not, thank you very much. But they do. Cards, calls, prayers, flowers and food. Especially in the South, where we love people by feeding them. I was cleaning out the last of the funeral food in DooDaddy’s refrigerator when I spied a half-eaten roll of Thin Mints, and this memory from last spring came flooding back.
FACEBOOK FLASHBACK:
Omystars, I literally can’t even …
Me: “Mom, have you been drinking your Ensure like Dr. Bhandari said to?”
Gmamma: “I tried to, but it tasted sour.”
DooDaddy: “Oh, would you like those Polish hors d’oeuvres in the freezer for company?”
Me, via thought bubble: “WTF, Polish hors d’oeuvres?”
I open the freezer to find a bag of Polish potstickers from Sam’s Club that expired in 2011. Not to mention spoiled, half-drunk bottles of Ensure in the fridge.
Now I’m madly rummaging through everything in there, revealing a treasure trove of ptomaine poisoning. Did Gmamma and DooDaddy actually move expired groceries from the house when they came to Shannondale A YEAR AGO?
Why yes, yes they did.
Gmamma is laughing soundlessly, tears streaming from her eyes as I pull out a jar of pickles from 2008, yogurt and ice cream from 2014, Jimmy Dean frozen sausage biscuits from 2012, and on and on it goes – I’m just relieved not to discover the Lindberg baby behind a carton of stale Neapolitan ice cream.
“We thought we’d be snacking in the apartment a lot more,” offers DooDaddy, by way of explanation. “But we mostly eat our meals in the Dining Room.”
Me, via thought bubble: “THANK THE GOOD LORD!”
Three voluminous garbage bags later, I leave my geezers with bottled water, Powerade, and the candy from Gmamma’s Christmas stocking. I confiscate Girl Scout Cookies (From this year. I checked.) to take home with me. It would be a tragedy to let Samoas go to waste. I do leave a half-eaten roll of Thin Mints in the butter dish. And half a Rueben sandwich in a paper bag from yesterday’s lunch, but only because Gmamma had carefully labeled it “May 16, 2015.”
Doomsday Preppers got nuttin’ on my Depression-era parents.
I grew up in a house stuffed to the gills with stuff, like a pufferfish about to blow. Sterling silver, family portraits and heirloom jewelry to be sure, but also 40 years of National Geographic and Mom’s kitchen windowsill full of empty airplane-sized alcohol bottles. I’m not saying she drank. Or that she even traveled. She just kept things. Everything.
Folded and reused tin foil and scraped grease in an old Crisco can on the stove. Stacked and stashed brown paper grocery bags and last year’s Christmas wrapping paper and bows. Children of the Great Depression were the original Green Generation, repurposing and “up cycling” before it was a thing. My parents were alike in that way.
So you can see why I art direct my pantry shelves and stage the toothbrush cup and Q-tip holder by the bathroom sink – it’s a reaction to the clutter that engulfed my childhood. I like surfaces. Uncluttered. I’m a ruthless thrower outer of things. If I buy a new item of clothing, I get rid of something in my closet. Excess stuff makes me claustrophobic. Feng shui is my Xanax. It soothes me to have clean sheets on the bed and fresh vacuum tracks on the carpet.
It soothed Gmamma to save paper napkins and reuse dental floss.
Funny thing, what so recently frustrated me now has me pining for my precious pack rat mother.
Doesn’t everybody keep Thin Mints Girl Scout Cookies in the butter dish?
One of your best Dally!
I think there’s still some breakfast cereal from 2014 in the kitchen cabinet …
As your uncle Billy often quoted – “Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without”
LOVE!!! Uncle Billy was so quotable 😉
I love that quote; it’s gonna be mine from now on. I’m not as bad as my mama was, thankfully, but I, too, am a world-class pack rat.
Oh, dear, I am a daughter of Depressiin parents, and I still save everything! My freezer contents are legendary, down to the special sugar/icing flowers from our wedding cake 48 years ago. we used them on our 40th anniversary cake and plan to do so again on our 50th. I even have been “found out” about my notebook inventory of the freezer contents.
If you are wondering if something can be frozen and for how long, just ask me.
Fabulous article! Diana
Diana, a freezer inventory is ingenious — but those Polish potstickers had to go 😉
Love it, love it, love it. I just got back from a trip home ( as you know) where reuse, recycle, repurpose is king: I ate a half an apple on half a paper towel as I looked at a bean can full of bacon grease. Your story made me laugh — as well as make note that I need to cherish these memories — what a great way to start my Monday! Thanks for that. Lots of love 🙂
I think we need to start saving bacon grease, Mary. In addition to using it for cooking we could rub it on dry heels and elbows 😉 XXOOO
Cleaning out Mom’s drawers in her bedroom was like a treasure hunt for me! I never knew what I would find next! My biggest victory was finding a ring that Dad had had custom-made for her at Markmans. Oh, the thrill of the hunt!
love this! I’ve encountered many a furry mysterious item in my dad’s fridge!
Liz, I dare you to look at the expiration dates 😉 #geezerfun #geezergames
Love it Laura! When we moved my parents out of their home of 47 years, it was a treasure trove of anything you could ever want! Dad could not throw anything away, even the rusty tools he insisted I take!
Haha! Lots of memories in those rusty tools – they don’t make ’em like our parents anymore. We led a charmed childhood. I hope our kids appreciate our quirks when we become geezers ourselves 😉