I feel pretty safe in saying that growing up as young girls, watching our parents, grandparents, and those around us, we develop a pretty vivid picture of the things we hope for as adults. Namely here, I’m talking about things in the romantic realm. Now, of course, as children and young adults, we don’t think of these things as romantical, more so we develop admiration in the small things, although most often unaware of such admiration, if that makes sense.
My family is not known much for affection. I never saw my parents sneaking a kiss in the kitchen, or holding hands while at the grocery store. But, I remember my mom waking us up super early in the morning to surprise my dad with a big gift on his birthday, because it was something he would enjoy. Now, as an adult I see my dad going hog wild with lights and inflatables in the yard for every holiday, because my mom loves it. (Granted, I think he might love it just as much now as well.) But, he does it because it makes her smile.
Growing up, I remember my Nan always packing my Poppy’s lunch for him. As I got older, I started to notice those lunches consisted of Little Debbies, chips, and pop…and I wonder how my Poppy stayed so skinny. HAHA. But, that’s neither here nor there, it’s an act of kindness, a gesture of love I now realize. It is, in fact, a recent conversation with my Nan that sparked this story of the cashews, so here we go.
When we get the chance, Nan and I play Yahtzee, and we carry on conversation that is all over the place in the process. Usually as we are playing, Poppy will ask us if we want him to make us popcorn, or ice cream, or serve us up a tall glass of pop. We usually oblige to one of the things, but regardless of our answer, he always takes himself up on the offer…generally to all three. So, Nan and I laugh at how funny it is that he basically eats the entire time we play. Recently in the process of all of this, she tells me that she had bought cashews and left them on the counter, and by the time she came home from work the next day, they were all gone. She said, “Holly, he ate every one of those cashews, so yesterday, I bought some more, and I left them in the sack and hid them, and you know what, he found them and ate half the can…after I HID them.” We laughed so hard, as he aimlessly played Solitaire in the living room. She very well knows he will eat them when she buys them for “herself.” Yet again, it’s an often unnoticed act of love.
When I was 10 years old, I just knew I needed a “man” like Taylor Hanson. At 16, I was convinced my future spouse had to have the jawline of Joe Don Rooney. In my 20s I leaned more towards the Paul Rudd and Topher Grace types. Now, into my 30’s, I’m amused at the fact that I have given every version of a man you could imagine the chance to play the part.
On my drive home, I began thinking about this some more, and giggled to myself. Because now, all I know is that he better like cashews.
Everyday a HollyDay 