“Mom, I would like a chocolate Cars (as in Lightening McQueen Cars) sandwich for lunch tomorrow.”
That’s how tonight’s lunch production started. Son A makes a request. Son B affirms request. Mom eagerly fulfills request.
Tonight, though, as I spread the thick, creamy brown Nutella onto the whole wheat slices, I became somewhat nostalgic. Not sure if it was the reference to homemade lunches earlier in the day, or taking a quick glimpse of my grandmother’s handwritten pierogie recipe, framed and hung from a kitchen wall… but, something triggered my thinking and took me back to my grandmother’s kitchen.
My Pap ate a tomato and mayo sandwich almost every day. Freshly brewed coffee with a splash of cream and a spoon to stir. White bread that had to be fresh and unsliced.
He’d sit down at the metal brimmed kitchen table. Newspaper, sandwich, and coffee in hand. Barely a word was spoken, except for the occasional, “Honey, help yourself.”
Bite of sandwich, slurp of coffee, turn of the paper page. The methodical rhythm of his actions could put a baby to sleep.
Routines from a War vet and memories from a granddaughter. Funny how a chocolate Cars lunch could bring that all back.