He did okay yesterday. Apparently there were a couple of issues at school, but nothing super major. I *think* he might have hit a friend (still not clear as his speech still needs work) and...uh....when they took the classes to watch that big deal up in Washington on one of the computers in one of the classes, he drug his feet and didn't want to go. No comment on that. Last night at supper was great. The Boy is really getting into his Two Fun/Funny Things we are doing. He told me had 4 or 5 or 6, but only two are allowed at a time. He got to go another round after everyone finished and it seems all was fun in his world. Even the grits, eggs, and bacon on his supper plate. We thoroughly enjoyed his animated participation. His eyes were bright and he giggled and stayed in his chair. Man, I love when he's able to do that. I could seriously eat him up.
Now, for a new thought.
I have a confession to make. I *think* I might have done something wrong, but I'm not sure.
When we go to visit family in South Carolina, we stay at my Grandma's house. Since she's bedridden next door, it works out really well. No one is put out and it's a familiar place for the kids (and myself!). It's not a big house, but it's enough for us for the short stays we do. We have all the comforts of home and I'm grateful to have the blessings of everyone to stay there.
I was packing up to head back to Georgia on our last visit. I washed the few dishes we had used and after they dried, I was putting them back in the cabinet. The kitchen is a galley style kitchen and I don't care how big or little you are, only one person needs to be up in there at a time. When I opened the cabinet to put the glasses up, I stopped. There sat my Grandma's measuring cup. A simple tin cup that has seen many better days. I stood there and I looked at that cup. Memories came over me like a wave. My brother and I stayed with my grandparents during the day while my parents worked. Every single day, she cooked us a hot meal to eat as soon as The Price is Right went off. We would sit in the living room smelling good stuff and we knew as soon as the Showcase Showdown was over? We were gonna eat good. Every single day, she made a batch of home made biscuits. They were always perfect. The kind of biscuits you'd eat loaded with butter and jelly. Some days, I'd poke a hole and eat the fluffy goodness out the middle it was so good. I remember seeing that cup on her counter every day. It was a faithful companion to her and a constant in my life that I couldn't grasp at such a young age.
I stood there and looked at that cup without moving. I got sad. Tears were in my eyes as I finally realized and faced the fact that my Grandma would never use that cup again. Never would she cook up a batch of her home made biscuits. A lost recipe as she never really measured...she just made them. I was overwhelmed with a sense of grief because it finally hit me. That stupid tin cup made me cry.
I grabbed that cup and put it in one of my bags to come home with me. I was almost kind of frantic about it, to be honest. I had no way of justifying what I was doing. I just knew I wanted, NO NEEDED, that cup with me. It was a part of my child hood and it was Grandma's. I didn't think about it again until we got back to Georgia and I was unpacking the bags.
I stood in my kitchen and looked at that cup. Held it in my hands. The memories surrounded me again of my child hood, but this time I didn't cry. I was starting to feel guilty. I hadn't asked if I could take the cup. I didn't consult with Grandma or any other family member. Why would they want an old tin cup anyways? I put it on my kitchen counter and walked away.
I couldn't stand it. When I talked to my Mama later in the week, I told her I had the cup. I told her why I wanted it, NO NEEDED, it. She understood and said it was okay. I still haven't told my Daddy or brother...or even my Grandma. But, someone knows. I really don't think it's something harmful in the grand scheme of things, but I felt bad about it. I wanted that cup because I'm such a sappy sentimental person. It gave me a piece of my childhood back and I want to share that with my children and maybe pass it down to one of them when they're older and on their own. I imagine that cup was part of my Daddy's life when he was growing up and, Internets? You just can't buy history like that.
What do you think? Was I wrong to act impulsive and take Grandma's measuring cup? I don't believe it'll be a free for all when my Grandma passes. We are a small family. She has a will and all of us know what is what with no hard feelings or ugliness in our hearts. Bless her, she doesn't have a lot. Most of what she has will lean towards sentimental anyway. The only other thing that I have expressed an interest in is her cedar chest. We'll see how it goes.
Here is Grandma's Measuring Cup.
Now it sits on my stove. It's so old and beaten it can't sit flat on a surface. The measurements on it are basic and probably not true because of the wear and tear during it's life. I believe it still has a long way to go.