When I was little there was a very short amount of time when I had the "normal" family. Nice house, stay at home mom, other siblings and a big back yard. My mother made dinner every night and even though we usually ate at tv trays, we were together.
Once my mom divorced my step dad the dinners stopped. I can only honestly remember one time after that that dinner was made like it was back in the family days and we actually sat around a table and ate. But one thing that always stayed was "miller surprise". It sounds like maybe the creepiest meal made but it's really just chicken noodle soup. It doesn't taste like anyone elses soup and it doesn't have any veggies. Whenever I wanted that soup, my mom would make it. She may have failed miserably at all the big things, but this small thing, she conquered. And maybe it was only soup but it was a constant in my life of chaos.
I always loved the warm smell that would fill our house when she made that soup. I would eat the left overs for days and days.
When I became a vegetarian realizing I would never again eat this soup was one of the main deciding factors I juggled before committing.
Lately my grandparents have all but completely lost their appetites. My grandma can't really cook anymore so they survive mostly on frozen dinners and protein shakes. None of my aunts or my mother lives close so they are almost left to take care of themselves alone. My grandpa has daughters from his first marriage that live about an hour or so from them, so they do as much as they can, which is a pretty great amount.
My grandparents came to thanksgiving at my house this year and I think I just had one of those slap you in the face realizations that we don't have forever.
My grandma is perfect to me. I love her with all my heart, she can do no wrong and I still get exicted to see her. I love getting cards in the mail from her and still cherrish the little stickers she uses to close them. I don't ever want to live without her around, but I know I will have to.
Well, since I know I have right now I figured I should use it. I told them I'd make them homecooked meals that they could freeze and eat when they wanted.
Miller suprise is simmering on my stove for them and my house is filled with that same warm smell. I can't taste it, so hopefully my nose won't fail me, but I have a feeling it's going to be just as delicious and heart warming as it was for me when I was 5.