Day 98

Day 98: We spent the weekend emptying my husband’s childhood home; a place where his parents lived life for more than 40 of their 70+ years together.

It wasn’t really my plan, but this week I ended up writing about snacks and the memories they evoke. The theme wrapped up nicely like a favorite piece of candy (for me, that’s a Tootsie Roll metaphor) when I opened the door of my mother-in-law’s pantry to find it absolutely devoid of any snacks. Every shelf was empty. Not one peanut cluster. Not one jagged chunk of peanut brittle. Not one jar of popcorn. I stood there, gaping at the empty shelves, surprised that the prickly feeling behind my eyes had turned into a smile when I had been gulping back tears all day.

A smile? Yes, because as I stood there looking at empty shelves, my mind immediately filled them with memories. That pantry was overflowing with visions of cold cereal boxes that typically began a conversation about spoiled grandkids (the kids only ever had All Bran and Shredded Wheat) but Grandma’s oatmeal with raisins made up for the fiber-y stuff. I remembered the ingredients for cinnamon rolls and pecan logs and buttery popcorn. I remembered Grandpa’s stash of homemade peanut clusters and his Shasta strawberry floats. I saw mugs of hot chocolate and hot homemade bread slathered with homemade raspberry huckleberry jam.

Even though this house would soon be inhabited by a new family who would fill the shelves with their own pantry staples, it will never be possible to empty this pantry of the memories it holds for our family, and that’s why I smiled.

Food storage is important for natural disasters and zombie apocalypses, but memory storage doesn’t have an expiration date. Hoard them. Stack them high. Fill the pantry shelves while you can. #MomsCompanyTowels #FillYourPantryWithMemoryStorage #SnackMemories