Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Phoning it in

The last few weeks have been a bit on the rough side around here.

[side note: In what we'll call fair disclosure, there have also been some really fun and great moments as we have a French foreign exchange student, which maybe I'll blog about later!]

Anyway, there have been some not fun side effects. Higher levels of stress. And some bad news from friends and loved ones.

Boo. Hiss. Cry. Be sad.

So tonight, I'll ordered dinner. We rarely order dinner, except for pizza nights. Like, not counting pizza, I can't remember the last time I ordered dinner. But I just could. not. make. dinner. tonight.

And then I flashed to my grandmother's funeral late last summer.

My grandma was 98 years old when she passed away. She passed away in the bedroom she was born in. In the house on the farm her parents started. Eventually her and my grandfather took over.

At the funeral people were sharing memories. One of the memories shared was going to her house to wash jeans, which took a long time.

Grandma had 9 children. And a husband. On a farm.

Something really resonated with me that day, that I thought of today.

Grandma couldn't take a day off. She couldn't just decide to not make dinner. Or to wash all the jeans. Or other laundry. Or cooking food. Or all the things she had to do.

And I think about today. Where I have an electric stove, a microwave, a dishwasher, a washing machine, a dryer, a car, tons of grocery stores, only three kids, etc, etc.

Which makes me think, damn, grandma was a strong woman.
Which makes me thing, damn, I'm lazy.

Though I don't think I'm lazy.

But I wonder, did grandma ever wish she could make someone else make dinner. Did she ever call a friend or relative and say hey, today's been rough, can you help me feed all these people. Or did she serve leftovers once or twice not because it was all she had but because she didn't want to cook more food. And if she had, could she have admitted it?

What pressures were on her as a mother as the ebb and flow of life rushed on around her?

I never asked her.
I never even thought to ask her.

I wish I had, honestly.

I suppose this is a case of you didn't know what you wanted until it was gone.
Or I took for granted that she could have taken a break, or not made dinner, or skipped laundry one week.

I'll assume that when my grandma was in the throes of motherhood and had some bad days, heard bad news, got sick, that she didn't take a break. That she had to buck up and make dinner anyway.

That said, I'm glad I could literally phone in dinner tonight. And I won't take for granted the ability to do that.