memories don't always haunt

yesterday was supposed to be steak and crown royal day but whatever asshole is in charge of the budget around my house cut corners a little too close this paycheck and so instead it was meatloaf day. (oh, that's me. oops).

steak and crown day is a celebration i (try) to do every year to mark my dad's birthday. he used to come to town every year and take me out for my birthday, so now i like to drink and devour to honor his birthday. it will happen this weekend for sure...i'm sure he won't mind a few days difference as long as i double the crown consumption. happy 61st birthday dad. maybe i'll have a cigar too...

life is all about balance after all.

so. meatloaf day means left over meatloaf lunch the next day.

i warmed up said lunch at work today and one of the guys asked how i make it and the biggest key to my meatloaf (which is really nothing fancy) is using my grandmother's meatloaf pan. it was passed on to me after she died and i've never seen another like it and it will stay in my cupboards until someone has to pry it out of my dead hands. well, i probably won't die HOLDING IT. but you know...maybe. (it's really simple- basically two bread pans stacked on each other with holes drilled in one so the grease drips out.)

but actually thinking about the meatloaf pan made me try to remember how long ago she passed away. I don't remember how long ago, and i don't remember how, but i DO KNOW she was around long enough to see my youngest kiddo born. so...less than 13 years ago.

HERE'S HOW I KNOW.

my second birth was not great. i was induced TWICE for 48 hours. the first time they sent me home to wait another week, the second ended in an emergency c-section, a near death experience, and a whole lot of crazy. the WHOLE TIME i was in the hospital, i was being yelled at by my ex-husband for taking to long. i mean, HE TOOK TIME OFF WORK FOR THIS. now the ex part makes even more sense i'm sure.

the other person who stuck it out the most at the hospital with me was my grandma. she stayed in my room with me, helped buffer the mood, and was pretty mellow overall. at one point she noticed i didn't have any nursing bras and so she decided that would be her baby gift.

the conversation went something like this:

gma: "what size nursing bra will you need?"

me: "i'm not sure. it's definitely different than last time, i really don't know."

gma: "well, you look like you're about as big as me, so i'll get you a DD."

at this point i'm pretty sure i blushed and looked anywhere but at my grandma because for the first time in my life i suddenly realized: HOLY SHIT, GRANDMA IS STACKED. which is an awkward realization at best. ESPECIALLY when you consider i was getting ready to run a full production milk farm and she was just that way ALL THE TIME.

memories like that don't haunt you. memories like that, as weird and awkward as they are make me laugh. those are the good ones. remembering my dad calling me on st. patrick's day telling me he hasn't had enough to drink because he's still not peeing green. remembering my brother calling me on my birthday like he was ordering tacos.

remembering the things that make me smile instead of crawl in a corner and cry for the rest of the day.

not all memories haunt you. plenty do, but not all.