Unwrap A Smile

    I know it's not just me.

    I know that almost everyone bears deep childhood memories of holidays and food and family lore that grow beyond their empirical meaning until they become wellsprings of identity and remembrance.

    Seeing Christmas lights wrapped tightly around light poles as you drive downtown. 

    Scented balsam fir candles.

    The ecstatic boom of fireworks in a dark winter night, or over a beach on Independence Day.

    Memories of comfort and pangs of nostalgia may energize your emotions.

    For me, I am always sent into nostalgia and reverie by the humble Star Crunch....

   Typically, Grandmother Harrington would cook fifteen or so dishes for our Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners. She would also put out innumerable homemade treats and sweets, and stock the kitchen with Cokes and snacks alike. Like any good Southern grandma, she was partial to anything from Little Debbie. Nutty Buddies. Oatmeal Creme Pies. Star Crunch. 

    If you have never had one, a Star Crunch is puffed rice covered in chocolate and caramel. Nicely crisp, not too sweet. The story has it that they were marketed right after the Apollo 11 moon landing as a Moon Crunch, then the name was changed and they were later added to the permanent menu.

        

       I have always felt very fortunate to have had grandmothers--3 of them, actually--in my life until my mid-40s. Even after growing up and starting a family of my own, I made a lot of trips to visit with my own kids along. So they were introduced to the family traditions, the family lore. 

    When Grandmother Harrington sold her house and moved into an assisted living complex, we continued to visit. Most of the times, we would take her to her favorite local restaurant, Buck's Dairy Quick. One of those old converted Dairy Queen-style cafes turned into a hamburger steak and chicken finger joint. 

    She always wanted a hamburger steak made from ground sirloin instead of ground beef, with diced onions mashed into the meat and fried along with it. Well done. "Don't be afraid to burn it" she would always say. We would spend a couple of hours hanging out at the table "visiting" after the meal, me and her and the kids. Thinking back on it, I am really proud of  Pam, Andrew, and Sarah for actually spending the time talking to her instead of running around the place. A lot of kids don't give a rip for hanging out with family, but mine sure did.

    When we would get back to her tiny little room, she would always pack us snacks to go.

    In her top dresser drawer she kept a ready supply of Star Crunch cookies.

    It seems they served them every night with dinner, and she always saved hers and squirreled them away in her room.

    For later. 

    Or for company. 

    Growing up in subsistence-farming Alabama during the Great Depression, Grandmother had learned to always put something back for later. 

    Growing up in an atmosphere rich in hospitality, of covered-dish suppers at church and visits from family that could come at any time, she always put something back to share with someone that dropped by.

    She would load us down--sometimes 8 or 9 of those little cakes. Press them on us. 

    "You have to have something to eat in the car on the way home."

    You know how it goes. You know what grandparents say. 

    

    I absolutely marvel at the discipline and the forethought she showed by such a simple act. Alone as a widow for almost 40 years, she excelled at being a great hostess and providing any food we could ever desire. Even selling her house and moving into a room the size of a hotel suite did not make her throw in the towel. 

    Instead, she continued to find a way to do what she did best, to provide for us. 

    When people get up and speak at funerals, they often talk of great deeds and stories from down the years. But as often as not, it may be the almost-unnoticed but inspiringly consequential small moves that give an eternal and lasting testimony of personality. 

    Of character.

    Of love.

    Not only am I fortunate to have been born into a family that loves each other so well, but I am unutterably blessed to have been shown how to live life.

      So, I feel like I need to add a box of Star Crunch to this week's grocery list....keep them in the pantry when the kids come calling...