My mom posted on her Facebook yesterday, “Going to see Molly….in other words…Molly needs groceries.” I wish that I could disagree; but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that there is some truth to that status update. There are some household essentials and pantry staples that I toss into the cart when Mom comes to visit and takes me to Wal-Mart. Furthermore, shopping with her gives sight to my blind eyes that normally overlook (in attempt to resist) all the frivolous things that I would enjoy trying and/or cooking with but could also live without. It can be an art form to prolong the supply of certain provisions such as mouthwash and toilet paper between her visits (Apartment guests: BYOTP, we’ve no squares to spare. Or “Awww Weston…just suck it up and wipe with a leftover McDonalds napkin- my Mom’s coming next week.” Just kidding.) It takes a special person to pick up the tab when we run out of such things and I happen to know exactly where she gets her generosity from.
My Mom’s mom helped her when my parents could no longer make their marriage work. Like all families, divorce was not in the “game plan” (let alone budget) and my Mom had nothing saved up for a rainy day second household to escape an unhappy one. Our newly broken family was dreadfully fortunate to have a means of affording a beautiful house when the unavoidable couldn’t be avoided any longer. During that time, my Grandma offered us support in each and every way that she could and in ways that many cannot. For that, we are forever grateful. Even before the divorce, on a lighter note, whenever she visited, aside from the roll of paper towels that she would bring to our house (as if it were her “toll” for staying the night) my Grandma would join us on trips to the grocery store. Mason and I were in pure heaven and beyond obliged, “You mean we can get Gushers AND Fruit Roll-Ups?!!” or “Oh thank you Grandma, we’ve been wanting to try Cookie Crisp forever!!” She assures us, “That’s what Grandmas are for.”
Lucky for me (and Weston) generosity doesn’t skip generations and my Grandma has rubbed off a little onto my Mom. The grocery store dialogue is similar, “Moooom….all the other bloggers are putting wheat berries in their oatmeal.” or “Oh, yum…York Peppermint coffee creamer! Can I get it to try?” We walked out with Michigan Cherry flavored coffee yesterday and several other luxury items that I have a hard time buying for myself but absolutely cherish when it graces my cupboard shelves. While I remind her that it is unnecessary and she is welcome to visit any time, Weston and I appreciate her learned generosity and inherited intent, “That’s what Mothers are for.”
Thanks again Mom.