Daddy and the Stale Vanilla Wafers

My Daddy loved stale vanilla wafers.

I learned to love them too. Or rather, I should say, I learned I loved them too.

Because, yes.

Very good.  The flavor is no different, but it’s all about the texture.

Daddy and I never really talked about our preference.  I just know that there was a feeling of comfort to walk in the house, open that first cabinet door to the right of the refrigerator and find a box of vanilla wafers with the top of the box closed but the bag standing wide open on the inside.   The way that some things never changed made me happy.

Vanilla wafers were the first things not on the list of fruits and veggies and cereals that I was giving my children that Daddy handed each one of them.  And they loved them…..and loved him for it.  How could I be mad when I saw the look of sheer joy on their faces as they beamed, faces and hands and probably shirts covered in vanilla wafer goop that becomes much like glue?  I can remember one of my three barely being able to open her eyes because of the goop surrounding them.  But there was no mistaking that smile.  Grin wide open.

So I’m not sure what it is about the stale wafers that is so appealing, but I was reminded of it when I grabbed one of the Fella’s sweet potato chips (yes, we have separate bags–that’s a story for another night though–the struggle is real, is all I’m saying), and I realized it was a little stale because the bag hadn’t been closed properly. (And–Georgia humidity.)

I was happy.  That chip was the perfect texture.

And all I can think is there is something comforting about things–food and people and the like–who take in their surroundings and assimilate.  You know, those that don’t have so many artificial ingredients that they stand up, and it’s like nothing can affect them at all.

I like a little compassion, I guess.  In my people and my wafers and chips, apparently.

Tonight, I’m thankful for memories of my Daddy.  Happy ones about shared joy and how he loved his grands.  I’m thankful for opened bags that lend just the right amount of something to the things I enjoy.  And I’m thankful for folks who allow themselves to take in what is going on around them and be changed by it.  And still be beautiful and loved.

Love and wishes for a box of vanilla wafers, however you best enjoy them, to all.