“So I just made my lunch for tomorrow and it made me really sad you weren’t here to make my sandwhich for me or to write my name on the bag since it is the first brown paper bag lunch I have had since high school”
And that made me sad, kind of. Making school lunches was not my favorite thing. Actually, it was a big chore at the time. I am pretty good at alot of things, but planning grocery lists and stocking up on food is not in my “strength” column. I fail miserably at that. So it would be 7:15 a.m. – I would be frantically trying not to have a bad hair day, and I’d hear…”Where’s my lunch”…and I’d have to scramble to find some turkey and a piece of fruit, and likely make a mad dash to the grocery store or dig through my purse for lunch money. When they went off to college, I thought to myself…wow, no more stressful brown bag dramas. Fast forward four years. I get this text from Brooke, and it really touched me. She actually appreciated my efforts, however feeble, and let me know. I felt nostalgic and sad that those days have since passed. So the question is…Do our memories, over the years, take on the characteristics of what we longed for at the time…that sort of cinderella fantasy? And…is there anything wrong with that?
I am now an empty nester. It’s just me here in my house with Zoie, my beagle, and a variety of cats – Tress (who I introduced in an earlier post), Cici (the white fluff ball himalayan) and Mia (the mixed up tortie). But I miss my daughters. I raised them on my own from the time they were 5 and 7. We had some hair raising, hair pulling dramas – but in the end – they turned out great. Brooke is at MSU Go Green getting a degree in Athletic Training, and Kenzie is at Columbia in NYC rowing varsity. When they are home, everything feels complete. We laugh. We argue. We laugh. They tease me. We laugh.
I have since forgotten the drama. Well, pretty much. My memories are fond. I mean, I loved making brown bag lunches. That’s what Moms do. And kids appreciate the efforts. Later. Through cinderella glasses. Whatever. It all works.
This flower bud reminds me of Brooke. It looks like a smiley face. And she makes me smile.
P.S. I would be remiss not to write the following text to my Mom (but she doesn’t text of course): “Thanks Mom for all those brown bag lunches you made for me with celery I mean a tuna fish sandwhich and an apple and 2 snickerdoodles – homemade of course – I’m really sorry that I complained so much because those were the best lunches ever” 🙂