Friday, February 4, 2011

Chocolate Milk and Donuts

When I was a little girl, growing-up in Mentor, Ohio, my maternal grandfather worked as a plumber for a bank.  My grandparents lived about an hour away from us, so we usually only saw them on weekends but, every so often, my grandfather would have a plumbing job at the branch near us and would stop by for a quick visit.  He always brought chocolate milk and "chop suey" donuts.  (For some reason, he always called apple fritters "chop suey" donuts.)  If we weren't home, he would leave a bag of donuts and milk in the mudroom of our house.  It's one of my strongest and fondest memories.  Finding a surprise like that never failed to delight us.  A simple sign that Grandpa had been there and was thinking of us. 

Now, when my brother stops by my house during his work travels, he usually has chocolate milk and donuts with him.  It's a touching tradition that my brother and I carry-on to remember our grandfather.  Yesterday, as we sat at the table together, eating our donuts, my brother and I shared the story of our grandfather's deliveries with my daughter.  I could almost feel my grandfather there with us, smiling.  I can only hope that someday, my daughter will sit down with her children and eat donuts and drink chocolate milk and tell them about Uncle James' visits.  A never ending tradition that will ensure that our family history will live on through the small moments and gestures of life.