A couple nights ago, I had a dream where Colby & I stayed with Gair (my grandmother) for a few days. As we were packing up to go home, I found a bunch of books on the top shelf of the closet with a bunch of my old books. These were leftover from when I stayed with her for 2 months in my teens*. I was so happy to have found these, I tried to pack as many as I could in our suitcases, carryons and Trader Joe’s reusable bags.
As I pulling books down from the shelf, I saw a big cardboard box with my mom’s handwriting on it. Curious, I grabbed it, set it on the bed and opened it. It was full of stuffing mix, turkey gravy, cranberry sauce, etc. — all the fixins for Thanksgiving dinner. All of it was expired, of course, but the box was totally Mom.
*Didn’t actually happen in real life.
It made me reminiscent of holiday dinners – formal china, watered down champagne (for Mom), pumpkin pie & Cowboys games.
So, in my mother’s memory, I made her famous meatloaf for dinner tonight. Colby’s always overjoyed when I make meatloaf, because he knows the next night is spaghetti & meatball night (a family tradition!).