YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GONNA DO?

I'm 53 years old.  Mother of 3 grown children, and grandmother of 9, and I'm gonna buy myself a lunch box.  The kind that kids used to take their lunches in, to school.

Yup.  That's what I'm gonna do.

I remember going to school and seeing all those beautiful metal boxes with really nice lunches in them.  I always thought, "WOW"!  Those kids must be rich and loved! 

Those lunch boxes represented, to myself, as a little girl, a great luxery. The luxery of being thought of.

  Now, I know my parents loved all us kids, and they did not mean to neglect.  They were overwhelmed.  Not that other parents were not over whelmed, but even being over whelmed, I notced how much they thought about their children.

  The children's clothes were well put together.  Their hair was neatly combed, and had ribbons in it, or pony tails etc... Their fingernails were clean, and they had those lunch boxes.  Full to the brim with a sandwich, and celery sticks, or carrot sticks.  Little boxes of raisens.  Chips, and some even had a candy bar! Oh My Goodness!  It was beautiful! 

When I was rearing my children, I was a wreck, to say the least, but I do remember, almost hyper focussing on the LUNCH BOXES, with lots of, GOOD STUFF, in them, for their lunch. 

 I used to freeze the little cans of welche's grape juice, or apple juice, and then when I packed their lunch, I'd roll it up in a paper towel, and then some aluminum foil, so that by the time it was lunch time, and it most likely thawed, it would at least still be chilled.  I'd make them sanwhiches, and cips, and caroot sticks.  Anything I could think of, on their behalf.

I also didn't used to get breakfast, as a child.  I was on my own to scrounge, and if it wasn't there, I went without.  I remember the faint feelings I'd get in school for lack of food.

Well, I reared my kids on breakfast.  One day, I'd make sausage patties, and biquitsw/cheese, and another, I'd make blueberry, or strwberry muffins, on another I'd make sausage patties, scrambled eggs, and bisquits, on other days, I'd make oatmeal, with raisens, and butter, and cinnamon. 

Dinners.  My family never ate dinner together. It was first come, first serve, find your own, eat your own, and when it's gone, it's gone.

I raised my kids eating dinner together.  On Sundays, I made the big roast, with all the trimmings.

The amazing thing is that I did this when I didn't even really have the strength.  I was physically ill, most of the time, very depressed, most of my life, worried about the state of the world, and what mood my husband, at the time, was going to be in, but I never, ever failed to be thinking of my kids, in that way, that I was under the impression of, of those kids that possesed those lunch boxes. 

 I wanted my kids to have that. Whatever those lunch boxes meant, in life. It meant something, and I knew it.  It was a good thing, and I wanted my kids to have that good thing. 

Of course, my kids eventually rebelled, as kids do, and they felt goofy with the lunch boxes.  They wanted what the other kids were having, and of course, as they grew older, realizing that I was unstable, and especially encouraged to think so, by their father, and his family, they did not want much to do with me.

 Of course, I probably did go overboard, and I do know, I was a wreck, but I eventually learned to let go, and let them find their way in life.  I have found my way, too.

I've made a very good life for myself, and my kids are doing quite well.  We are even getting along really good, these days.  They turned out to be really good people. 

 They may never know this, but I know why.  It's because they were thought of, by me.  And it's because I gave to them, the good thing, that those lunch boxes really were. 

 Packed inside of those lunch boxes, was my every good thought for them, my every good intention, my every good wish, for them, and my every best hope, and prayer for them, and ALL of my love.

It doesn't matter what they really did with those lunches, once they left my sight.  It only matters... that I gave it to them.