Grandma’s Old Fashioned Meatloaf

Growing up I HATED my mother’s meatloaf. Those big nasty chunks of onions and peppers in it were the worst thing ever.  But Grandma – she made me fall in love with meatloaf!

I can still remember when I was wee little, we were talking. I had to sit at the table to help out, and she would let me mix up the meatloaf. 

Honestly, I thought that was the most awesome thing ever!  It was messy and squishy and just all kinds of fun. Now, I know people who freak out about stuff like this, but no way, man, not me.  It’s therapeutic.  I like working with my hands; it just seems to add to the experience. 

She’d tell me stories of her childhood and what she would make with her Mom. What I thought was just us having fun was so much more than that.  She was teaching me; teaching me to cook and respect the ingredients. 

She’d explain why soaking the oats in milk led to a more moist meatloaf.  She’d taught me how to tell the varying differences in ‘squishiness’ – when it was too squishy your meatloaf would fall apart when baking. If it didn’t really squish but rather just clumped, it would turn out super dry.  But again to me that wasn’t learning, it was squishy fun times!

Now to know my Grandma was to love her. My grandma was totally cool!  Sportin’ pink or purple hair, driving a souped-up Chevy Nova with white leather interior and candy apple red shimmer paint, cat eye glasses, pedal pushers, and taking me to breakfast every Saturday morning at the local drug store. 

Where yes, she’d take home not only the packets of jelly but often the whole plastic container.  *shakes her head*  Grandma ALWAYS had coins in her bottomless purse that I swear needed wheels on it.  As I got older, we used to tease her that she started out in life as 6’4″ tall, but as her purse became heavier and heavier, it shrunk her down to her 4′ something frame. 

She loved her ‘numbers,’, and after breakfast, she always played the lottery and scratch-offs.  That was her thing!

She just wasn’t a Grandma, she was my friend.  And I miss not only her but I miss my friend. She was the woman who taught me how to make pancakes for the first time on my own, how to not take crap and stick up for myself when I was made fun of, and how to appreciate what we have, not what we don’t have.

In a perfect world, the order of passing would go from the eldest to the youngest; however, in my life, that wasn’t the case. See I had never known my Mom’s parents or my Dad’s father as they had all passed away prior to my birth.  So she was my only grandparent.  At times, I’d get jealous of classmates talking about all of their grandparents, but she’d remind me that it wasn’t about quantity but rather quality.  God, she was so right. 

She was iconic to me. So when my Mom passed away when I was 18 and then my father (her son) when I was 22 I felt completely lost.  I felt orphaned – even though I had 5 siblings it just wasn’t the same.  They weren’t Mom & Dad.  However, I had Grandma.  She consoled me and understood my anger and how I felt.  She, too, felt it too.  I can still remember her saying, “A parent should not have to bury their child,” and then burst into tears.  I think we honestly cried all day. 

However, through those tears, we would talk and then discuss them both.  We’d laugh at the silly times we all had events from the past, and she helped me realize that while they may not still be here on earth, they were forever with me – they were in my heart, my thoughts, and every time I looked in the mirror, there they were. It’s because of her I started to feel again, started to love and let go.

As the years went by, Grandma came to live with us, and she had developed dementia, often reverting to her childhood.  I took this really hard and, at times, would get so angry because I wanted, no, needed my Grandma back.  However, I’d sit with her, and all I would have to do was look into her big blue eyes, and there she was; there my Dad was, too.  She was still there.  We’d talk about current things, and then, in an instant, she’d revert to a conversation she thought she had just yesterday with her Mom.  It was in those times I learned so much more about her childhood and my family history.  It was my turn now to take care of her, to nurture and protect her.

It’s been years now since she passed away; however, she’s forever with me.  I can see her, Mom & Dad sitting at the big kitchen table in the sky, watching over me, guiding me not only in the kitchen but in life in general.

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This dish pairs PERFECTLY with my Creamy Perfect Mashed Potatoes!

Looking for a vegetarian version of my meatloaf?  This Ultimate Mushroom Veggie Meatloaf OUTSTANDING!!!

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