THE SPOON THIEF

Last summer, I took a spoon from my daughter’s kitchen. Yes, I am a spoon thief. The spoon was not a plastic spoon or a measuring spoon, but a lovely stainless-steel spoon with a fully designed handle.   I know that you, dear reader, must be thinking, “Big deal, it’s only a spoon!” But I hope that you might change your mind after reading the whole story.  First, I must give you a little background, which will help you understand why I did what I did.

My daughter, Laurie and her husband, Lew, are very busy. Laurie has her own business and Lew is a wonderful principal in an elementary school. They have two sons that they adore.  My oldest grandson was commissioned from the Naval Academy in May and is now stationed in Pensacola, Florida. He is in flight school. Their youngest son is a Plebe at the Academy where he is also on the Men’s Gymnastics Team.  ( just grandma bragging)

Before both boys entered the military, they were involved in sports; not only one sport but several.  Although Laurie and her family live about eighty-five miles from my home, it has been challenging planning visits on both sides. They have full plates during the week and travel most weekends to the Academy.  I am so proud of them and their dedication to their sons. However, I missed them all dearly; especially my daughter.

It is June of 2015; Christian is graduating from high school. My husband and I drive out to Harrisburg. We are late due to traffic. We gobble pizza; then head out to the graduation ceremony. Before we leave, I walk through the rooms not touching anything, just checking out things; getting ideas. When we returned, I stood in the kitchen and watched my daughter putting things away and bingo, like the light bulb that goes on. I knew what I would take.

It is Graduation Party day! My husband drives, and I plot.  Am I sure this is the item I want? How will I take it? What will I do if someone sees me?  The questions played over and over, like one of my favorite Ricky Nelson songs.  Since I have never taken anything before, a little guilt was starting to set in. I had to be brave. I could do it!

We arrive at my daughter’s house.  Since we are a little early, Laurie makes me a cup of delicious tea. Here it comes; the mug with the hot steaming tea, sugar, milk, and the spoon. It was right in front of me! I had to play it cool. I didn’t want anyone to know how badly I wanted the spoon.  So, I drank my tea slowly in hopes that my daughter would go outside to welcome her guests.  Within ten minutes, Laurie went out. I was alone. I quickly got up, hurried to the sink, rinsed the spoon, wiped it dry, and put it in my purse. Mission accomplished!

I must say, I felt a little guilty that day. I had raised my children not to take things that did not belong to them.  But I needed the spoon; really needed it.

The meaning of the spoon…

The spoon has a new home. It has a special place in my silverware drawer where I can quickly get to it. Each morning when I pour my coffee and add the milk and sugar, I smile at the anticipation of getting the spoon and stirring my breakfast drink. Sweet memories fill my head with so many beautiful things that I have shared, over the years with Laurie. When I dip the spoon into my cereal bowl, I can almost hear a little girl giggling with her brothers, and baby sister, and my heart soars.  The spoon is my connection with Laurie and her family.  They use their spoons every day, probably around the same time I use mine.  Although I would love to see my daughter every week, I know that she needs to do what she does best, and that is to be the best wife and mother, she can be.  Laurie and I try to talk at least once a week, and each morning, I receive a ” Good Morning Mom” text from her. I love those little messages.  Just the sight of it makes me feel that I am sitting at her kitchen table looking in her eyes and listening to her tell me what is new.  It is priceless.

I am grateful for my family. I love and thank God every day for their excellent health and accomplishments.

I should not have taken that spoon, but I don’t regret it!

Since I wrote this story, one of Laurie’s forks has a new home; right next to the spoon. Oh no. Now I’m a fork thief too! My grandson was commissioned from the Naval Academy in May of this year. I am very proud of his hard work.

What connects you to your family?