Jan 5 – Food

My stomach began to grumble as I trudged through the door of Grandma’s house. I didn’t particularly want to be here. I love my grandparents, but they aren’t the most thrilling company in the world. Really I could list a few places I’d rather be – maybe that’s why Grandma likes Ruben more. The door squeaked, like it always does, and the worn out welcome mat received a dousing from my snowy boots.
“Hey!” I yelled down the hall knowing that they hadn’t heard me come in despite the noisy door and my clunky boots.
“Come on in Deary! Supper’s almost ready.” I could tell she was in the kitchen. The smell hit me as I took off my coat and hung it up. Ahhhh. THIS is why I come to Grandma’s.
“HHYELLOW!” And there’s Grandpa. I can picture him before I even get to the living room. In his big leather recliner, drinking some horrid concoction – probably eggnog and diet coke – as I’m thoroughly convinced that he lost all sense of taste years ago.
As I walked through the hallway and enter the living room it’s like I entered a flashback from my childhood. Grandma, slaving away over some delicious food and Grandpa, watching TV with it turned way too far up.
“Can I give you a hand with anything Grandma?” I know she loves it when we’re in the kitchen together. Something about the women in my family, it’s like we’re naturally drawn to the kitchen no matter which house were in.
“JAKE, WILL YOU TURN THAT RACKET DOWN?! I CAN’T HEAR MANDY SPEAK OVER HERE!” I’m always taken aback by my Grandma’s ability to be heard; you’d never expect such a sweet, frail thing to make such a tremendous noise. Before she even finished yelling she had the remote in hand and turned the TV volume down several notches with much protesting from Grandpa. I couldn’t help but chuckle lightly to myself – I’ve never understood how they stayed together this long, fighting is pretty much their only communication, but you can see it every now and then that they really do love one another.
“Hey dear, do you want to set the table while I finish up the food?”
“Sure Grandma. Do we need plates or bowls?”
“Plates, tonight. We’re having your favourite – roast beef, veggies, and fresh buns.”
“Oh wow, you didn’t have to go all out for me, it’s just dinner.” I was slightly surprised that she had made such a big dinner for just the three of us. Usually she stuck to soups and casseroles, but roast beef was my absolute favourite.
“It is most certainly not just dinner,” She said with a cheeky glint in her eye. “How often do we get to see you, let alone have you for dinner? I think this is definitely an occasion for favourites.”
With that my heart both warmed and sank. Seeing how much it meant to her that I had simply come for a meal was so sweet – almost like I forgot how much my grandparents actually love me – but hearing that it was a special occasion for me to come made me realize how distant I had been. Sure I had things to do – work, school, and friends – but was that really an excuse to never see Grandma and Grandpa, even if they drove me a little bit mad sometimes?
With shuffled steps I walked over to Grandma as she stood in front of the counter slicing the roast beef.
“I love you so much Grandma,” I said as I wrapped my arms around her and buried my face into her neck – which was quite a feat as she stands much short than me.
“I love you too dear, no matter what. Now, go put those plates out and let’s eat some roast beef.” She ever so lightly pulled out of my hug and gave me a smile that I know is only for me as she hands a platter of my favourite food.

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