don’t send tuna

Today is my mom’s birthday. She’s been gone a few years, maybe 6 or so, but I still like to think about her on her birthday.  I still go to the cemetery, stone her and my dad and then send pics. (See “Everybody must get stoned”  for context.)  It a Jewish tradition thing. https://growuptobesocio.com/2025/06/15/everyone-must-get-stoned/

I usually send the pic to my sister with some snarky comment in true socio fashion.  It is always something like, “Your mom says hi” or “Did you wish your mom happy birthday?”  We used to talk about our mom by not claiming her as our own but as belonging to the other only.  “Did you call your mom?” I would say to her. And she would snipe back, “Tell your mom the phone works both ways!” Hahaha. It was our way to communicate what a pleasure our mom was to deal with. (SARCASM-is there a font for that?) We were always passing mom off to each other because she was a very needy person. Don’t get me wrong, we both loved her, but my mom did not make it easy.  

Let me be clear here, my mom was needy for stuff, not love and affection.  Her love language was BUY ME STUFF!  Is that one of the 5 love languages or is there one for greedy people? Wait, there is one called “receiving gifts to show love through thoughtful presents that demonstrate care and affection.”  So let me ask a burning question here, how about tuna?  Does tuna “demonstrate care and affection?” I am thinking no, but I’ll let you decide.  I’ll get to the tuna part in a bit.

My mom was a true Great Depression baby. She was born in 1935. I remember growing up and it was like, eat this or you go hungry.  There was no make me something different, or I  don’t like that can I have something else?  You ate it or you went to bed hungry, period.  My mom was also the “stock up” queen. If it was on sale, you bought as much as you could and you ate it for days or weeks!  The same thing over and over.  It is probably why I hate leftovers now.  It is probably why I hate meal prep plans now.  I cannot imagine eating the same thing over and over again all week. NOPE.  Give it away, toss it out. Send it to the poor starving children wherever they are.  My dad used to tell me that there were starving children in Africa and I should feel lucky that I had anything to eat. (Sadly it is still true today about people starving in other countries.)  I have to admit I did not feel lucky to have the liver I was forced to eat. Not lucky at all.  But I digress here, so sorry. This is my childhood trauma popping up to torment me!  Moving back to my mom.

Because my mom was always experiencing food insecurity back then, before it was called that, she did the same thing as an adult and had us help her fulfill her need to “stock up.”  I can remember when there was an Entenmann’s outlet thrift shop near our house, we would take her there, where all the products were just one dollar or less and only slightly expired.  My mom would come home after spending only $20, with 10-one pound butter cakes, 12 loaves of bread (3 for a dollar) and enough cookies, pies and donuts for 6 months.  It was kind of funny because my mom was diabetic and there were only 2 people in her house at the time, her and my disabled brother.  But a month later it was all gone and she was ready for another trip to the outlet.  Yikes, when I think about it. We probably should have said no, but it made my mom happy.

In her later years, my mom was the same. She would buy so many of the same thing so she didn’t run out. Stock up!  It’s odd that she did not feel the same way about her medicine though.  She was always “on the last pill and needed me to pick up her prescriptions immediately or she would die!” It was always a fire drill and I had to stop whatever I was doing to run to the pharmacy.  But, no worries, my mom had enough pound cake for weeks!

Ok, so finally, let’s talk about the tuna.  My mom loved her canned tuna!  Tuna in a can, any kind, any brand, I think she ate it every day or not really at all. But my mom was always buying it and asking us to buy it for her. My sister used to bring her 12 cans at a time. My mom always had tuna in her fridge, so maybe she never ate it at all. I really don’t know. Maybe her love language was tuna, ha, that makes sense.  So in her later years when she was in assisted living, we would bring her groceries. We always bought whatever she wanted yet she always wanted more. Sometimes her fridge would be full and she would still tell us she needed stuff. Now we had lots of guilt about not visiting her enough and me especially about putting her there in the first place (my kid threw me in the street!), not true but it’s what my mom used to tell people.

Anyway, I remember one time my mom told my sister she needed tuna (her love language) and my sister decided to get her a dozen cans so she would be fully stocked.  I think when she got to my mom’s apartment (remember not her mom’s), my mom still had like a dozen cans of tuna in the fridge.  They weren’t hidden, they were right there and my mom had to know this.  But she still wanted more.  It was like a psychotic little test, whoever can bring her the most tuna is the one who loved her the most!  It was deranged and diabolical, but that’s how my mom was.  After my sister got over being pissed off about the absurdity of the situation, we laughed extra hard at that one. My mom was one crazy b*tch!

So I guess in retrospect the tuna story is not that funny. I think you had to be there, you know living it in real time to find it funny.  It’s still funny to me even though I no longer have my sister around to share the memory with.  So I decided to share it with my blog.  I also decided to share it via text with my sister’s husband and my cousin who she was very close to.

“Hey, please wish my sister’s mom a happy birthday. Her mom wants to know when she should expect her present. And don’t send tuna, she hasn’t run out yet!”

No worries, I brought a can. Good times.

PS-Miss you sis! Say “happy birthday to your mom!”