refrigerated reese's cups

every time i eat a reese's peanut butter cup, i think of my grammy. 

every

time.

it doesn't matter what the context is.

it doesn't matter if i'm sneaking one out of the candy bucket while my kids are in the next room during dinner clean-up.

it doesn't matter if i'm unwrapping a bunch because we're using them to make s'mores.

it doesn't matter if i'm eating one of the little ones with the shiny red and green foil from christmas, or one of the ones with the pastel wrappers that come around this time of year.

it doesn't matter.

i think of her.

i think of my cousin and i each pulling one out of the refrigerator drawer on the day of grammy's funeral and tossing them to the dog - her dog - just like she used to do. 

annie got a lot of reese's cups that day. 

i'm reminded of a couple of weeks before she died when i went up to stay with her. the vet had told my aunt and uncle that annie {the dog} needed to lose weight since grammy had long challenged all of the "dogs should not eat" foods by regularly feeding them to annie. 

so every time grammy ate a meal, annie went to her bed in the laundry room and waited there until grammy finished eating. once during lunch that week there was a lull in between grammy's regular lunch and her reese's cups. so i had annie go back into the laundry room. grammy looked at me incredulously and said, "just for this little bit of candy?!?"

yes, gram, just for that little bit of candy.

it doesn't matter that grammy has been gone for thirteen years. and i don't think it will matter twenty years from now. her hugs, her spunk, and her so-real-it-was-almost-tangible love for me will always come to mind with a reese's cup. 

especially when it comes straight out of the drawer in the refrigerator.

xoxo