Chip Snippet

I doubt I'll ever use this anywhere, and I'm really forcing myself to write right now, which is good, I still think, but I was just putting away a bag of chips in the kitchen and thought of something I haven't thought about since I was in college.

I have always had an embarrassing weakness for the fake potato chip. Think Munchos, Pringles, any of those products made from reconstituted shredded potato bits. There was a brand of these that was mildly successful in the early 90s--I can't even remember the name. I was fond of them when they first came out, and quite frequently my father would include a bag in the amazing care packages he sent me throughout the years I was in school.

One school vacation, when I had driven back to Massachusetts by myself, I pulled in the driveway and noticed that bags of these chips had been strung up from the trees lining the driveway, were hanging from the branches in honor of my arrival home.

My father was responsible, of course; I cannot imagine my mother--or anybody else I know on the planet--thinking this would be a festive way to greet a loved one, or executing the idea in broad daylight.

How weird, I remember thinking, smiling broadly. How wonderful. Even then I knew that it wasn't about the chips.

Someone responded to my eulogy posting by writing that I should tell the people I love why I love them while we are all still alive. I have been making a point not to respond directly to the (tremendously appreciated) comments I receive, as I don't want to be writing to or for anyone in particular, here, but poster: I try. And thanks to you, I will try even harder.

So here's my point: Nothing, nothing, compares to being loved like that.