We are out of bananas.
It’s things like this that make me weary and feel “less than” in the parenting department. My Mama rarely ran out of things. Though we were on a strict budget growing up (to quote my brother we were “raised on sale…..with a coupon”), I can’t remember us ever running out of anything.
And we are out of bananas. It’s not even like something that you think is in the back of the pantry, and so when you go to look you realize it’s not pushed all the way back to the corner. You really are out of ketchup or marinara or rice. (All three of which we have been out of in recent months because of this assumption.)
These are bananas.
For one thing, they are BRIGHT yellow.
For another, they live outside of the pantry. Except for the month the fruit flies tried to evict us, they live out on the table where everyone can see and enjoy their yellow loveliness.
And still, somehow, we are out of them.
They are the base for my smoothies and my go to for a quick snack or healthy side to a sandwich for my littles.
This is new. Today I was thinking about the fact that we are out, and how I made a vow NEVER EVER to go to the grocery store again on a Saturday, and wondered why this is new. Why have we never really run out of bananas before the past couple of years?
And it hit me.
Mama loved a good banana as much as the rest of us. She kept them around on her counter in the bowl there. She bought them as a bunch and she and Daddy and whichever little might be visiting enjoyed them immensely.
But the one thing Mama could not handle was a banana that was beginning to get spots.
It wasn’t her being picky, they did something to her. I can’t really remember what now, which is a little sad to me, but for this reason she didn’t eat the ones that were beginning to turn.
At least once every other week, she’d send a banana or three home with me for us to partake in because we will eat the things near about mushy. Never mind I have that brilliant recipe from my cousin for the best banana bread ever–in that dish, mushy is not a problem.
And so we never ran out. Even on days I thought we might be out, nope, there was Mama handing me whatever bananas she had that were starting to go.
I miss my Mama. I miss her because we run out of bananas now and have ever since she left this world two and half years ago. I also miss her for a million little reasons that I can’t hold in my hand or explain to anyone else. I miss her showing up.
Because she always did that too. She never seemed to run out of groceries in her pantry or love in her heart.
I guess I might never be able to claim that first bit, but in memory of the beautiful woman who raised me and shared her bananas, I’m sure trying to be able to say I never run out of the second.
I’m a work in progress, but I’m trying.
And for a banana-less October night, that’ll do.
Love to all.
For the fun of it, and this version of the 1922 song by Frank Silver and Irving Cohn because–all those lovely dresses and suits. Yes.