Learning to write a grocery list

A young girl old enough to read, I found a slip of paper on the kitchen counter. On it I read a list of things written in my mother’s fine cursive.

Hmm…looked like her grocery list. But what could t.p. mean?

Just then, I heard her unmistakable footfall coming up the basement steps she traversed countless times a day.

She could’ve thrown in another load of laundry, or ironed something. Perhaps she took inventory of her fruit cellar.

Or all three.

For Sadie Lee McCoy O’Brien had learned to multitask by age eleven while cooking for her family of eight. Thus, she made every step count going down and up the basement stairs.

Of course, I hadn’t matured enough at the time I held her grocery list to be aware of her domestic history and achievements.

As most children, I took my mother’s gifts, talents and devotion for granted. I thought every mother set a dinner on her table that fulfilled the requirements of the four food groups: fruits and vegetables, dairy, meat, grains.

Plus, a delicious dessert, especially her oatmeal raisin walnut cookies from her Aunt Jemima cookie jar.

Now, why that moment with her grocery list in hand settled into memory in everlasting faithfulness to and in awe of my mother, I cannot explain.

She paused in the open doorway, held onto the doorjamb. My blue eyes met her dark eyes.

I held up the little piece of paper. “Mom, what does t.p. mean?”

“Well, Iris, that’s toilet paper,” she said, as if I should’ve known.

Although the abbreviation made perfect sense, how was I to know the meaning of my mother’s abbreviations? It could’ve been for tomato paste, which she often used.

She took the paper from my hand and wrote several more things on the list. Yes, it looked like she’d taken stock of her fruit cellar: canned corn, beans, tomatoes, apples: food grown in Granny’s Kentucky garden and brought home to 25708 Wagner, Warren, Michigan.

Later, after dinner, came Mom’s most challenging part of grocery shopping: asking Dad for money.

That, I also remember well: Mom standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room while Dad watched television.

Mom held a dishrag and wiped our fingerprints from the wall while she waited for Dad to stand and retrieve his wallet from their bedroom.

At last, Mom put her grocery list and coupons in her purse. She drove away to A&P like a mother robin flying from her nest.

She returned and emptied bags of groceries on the kitchen counter, carried the t.p. to the linen closet. One remarkable evening she brought home a large bag of M&Ms for my sisters and me to enjoy while watching Disney on Sunday night.

Dear Reader, although I’ve never achieved my mother’s multitasking skills in the kitchen or elsewhere, I did inherit her devotion to the four food groups. And my linen closet stays well stocked with t.p.

Contact Iris at irisfarmletters@gmail.com