From the Heart

My great-grandparents were the epitome of hard work and dedication. My great-grandfather (Papa) was a perfect example of what was considered a family man, and he and my great grandmother grew up in small town USA. They grew up in a farming community and working odd jobs to make ends meet. They married young, but due to some health issues, they were “older” by the standards of the time, before they had my grandmother. When my grandmother was growing up, he would do odd jobs (ranging from truck driver to farming to working at a feed/seed shop). Details are fuzzy, but I recall being told that my great grandmother (Granny) would work over night at a factory, get home in time to get my grandmother off to school, my great grandfather off to work and would sleep while everyone else was at work/school. She would get up from her nap in time to start the process of dinner, run errands, etc. They learned early on to work hard for everything they needed and wanted in life, and to make sure their family had everything they could want and need within reason.

However, in my lifetime, I recall my Papa working at a local feed and seed and she worked around the house. My Granny’s health and age prevented her from working outside the house (she probably did when I was first born, but I don’t recall). Granny helped my mom with me as needed and did things like the normal household chores, and worked the garden in her yard, alongside Papa. There were many seasons of them growing corn, various kinds of beans, tomatoes, cabbage and lettuce, a fig tree and a blackberry bush. They frequently gave away the fruits of their labor and canned a good portion of it too. My brother and I have many memories growing up of helping them shell the peas and shooting them at each other. Being the oldest of their great-grandchildren, I am the only one with memories of Granny before she passed, that did not include her being sick. My cousins have more memories past that of Papa, but he held a special place in my heart. After all, my 3rd grade year, it was always a toss up of who was going to pick me up from school (it was usually my mom, but for whatever reason it could have also been any combination of her, my aunt, my grandparents and Papa). I always looked forward to the days Papa would pick me up, because he would take me to get ice cream, then take me to his house to visit Granny before he would take me home. It was an hour where I was the only kid (no classmates, no brother, no cousins) and got all of the attention. My Granny passed when I was 11 in 1995 and my Papa passed when I was 22 in 2006. When my mom and I helped my grandmother clean their house, we found peas in the far corners of the rooms, that they couldn’t get clean in their old age. My Granny used to make her own canned sauerkraut, using cabbage from her garden. She made so much that it was probably 15 years after her death before we ate the last jar.

All this to say, my favorite dish to make, is the first one I learned to cook. It was usually a simple box of macaroni and cheese, a jar of their sauerkraut that they canned, and some kielbasa sausage. We would some macaroni and cheese on one eye, and start up a pan on another. We would start a jar of homemade sauerkraut that she had canned in the pan we had set out. While that was simmering, we would cut up a kielbasa sausage and combined it with the sauerkraut in the pan. We would just let that dish simmer while we would keep an eye on and continue the steps for the macaroni and cheese. By the time the macaroni and cheese was done, the sausage and sauerkraut was cooked through. Combined with a glass of tea, some water or some juice and it was the perfect comfort food. I still occasionally make it for my kids, but it is hard to find sauerkraut that I like. It’s just not the same.