Meatloaf, Mac n Cheese, and Mom-Mom

My grandmother has been on my mind a lot lately.

There's no particular reason.  It isn't the anniversary of any particular milestone for her.  I haven't been back home for a few weeks.  I've just been thinking about her.

Growing up my siblings and I spent a lot of time at Mom-Mom's house.  She lived a mile down the road - just far enough to ride our bikes independently and feel like we were in a whole new place.  Just short enough that Mama and Papa H never had to worry about the trip.

When I was younger I would look forward to the random but frequent dinners at Mom-Mom's. Poppa passed away when I was only five or so, leaving most of my childhood to be just her.  I loved her house.  I loved dinners there and breakfasts there and the snack drawer that I'm pretty sure every grandmother has - stocked of course with her grandkids' favorites.

While I have no idea why, around her table was a rolling office chair with torn black pleather patched with duct tape.  That's where I sat.  I could spin in circles and feel as tall as Big Bro and Big Sis.  I could feel as important as any grown up.  I'd sit there when she'd perm my hair.  I'd sit there when we'd play heated round after round of Boggle.  I'd sit there for any meal when Mama H needed a night off and we got to go to Mom-Mom's.

Mom-Mom could cook almost anything, and always from scratch.  A generational gift/burden I suppose.  Still, there was one meal that was so simple it almost didn't fit her at all, and I remember it as a favorite: meatloaf, Stouffer's mac n cheese, and a veggie (usually lima beans).

I guess in part because I have been thinking of her so much this week, I found myself craving and buying a box of Stouffer's at the store.  And then, not sure what to make for Sunday dinner, searching the internet for quick and easy meatloaf recipes.  And without further thought, popping open a can of lima beans from the cupboard.

Sidenote - I apparently missed some of PDG's hunger cues as he was so excited to see me cooking that he started just grabbing cold beans straight from the can like he hadn't eaten in days.  I didn't stop him because 1) he was happy 2) it was super cute and 3) I try to never discourage vegetables

Anyway, as I sat around the table with my boys I felt grateful.  How lucky I am to have grown up so close to one of my grandparents.  How lucky my parents must've felt as well.  How lucky I am now that the hour and a half drive back home can feel as short as that familiar bike ride when I need Mama and Papa H, or PDG needs them, or Mama and Papa H need to see their boys.

I still miss Mom-Mom dearly.  I miss her laugh and stories and care.  I wish J-Man got to meet her and that she'd gotten to hold my babies just once.  But at least I have a million tiny memories.  Even if they are as simple as a meatloaf dinner on a rainy Sunday night.