I’ve posted a couple of times before about the absolute joy of receiving a care package with the simple tastes from home.

Today, we got two boxes from Woody, featuring marvelous treats that she and Hunter and Zane had selected for us. We are in Heaven!

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Woody must have been taking notes during her visit, because the packages include so many items that we talked about missing: Crunchy Cheetos, Oreos, and FRITOS! Not that we ate these often when we lived in San Diego, but it’s the absence of them that makes the heart grow fonder, right?

The Wild Blueberry muffin mix is because I made blueberry muffins while she was here, and we both kind of gagged on the fake blueberries and the crumbling cake of the muffin. Oh, how I’ll treasure these!

Do you see the cookies? Milano Mint, Pepperidge Farm Caramel Apple, and Pepperidge Farm Pumpkin Spice? And blueberry pop tarts? I’ve died and I’m in Paradise!

Do you see the Lays bag? Those a Chicken and Waffle potato chips! I didn’t even know they made those. Tom and I will likely battle for each one.

The marshmallows arrived as marshmallow creme, but I don’t care. I’ll find some use for it. Peanut butter and marshmallow creme sandwich, anyone?

Of course, this is going to wreak havoc on my eating program, wherein I eat only meats, veggies, and fresh fruits. But that’s a good thing. Not only will I have the motivation to make things last, but I’ll be constrained to eat a bite only and not devour the entire package (nom-nom-nom-nom!). Be still, my heart!

Now, understand, this isn’t just about a love of junk food. As I said, we didn’t eat these things normally when we were in the U.S. We knew better. But we also knew they were there when emergencies arose (YES, you DO eat some of these when there are emergencies…like having Oreos when your son goes off to college, or Lays chips when you’re missing your daughter).  We might have had junk food rarely, but it was there when we needed it. That’s the secret of a good care package. It’s not the food that’s needed, but rather the comfort of home.

Here, they have other junk food, but isn’t it true that we long for the junk food of our youth? Only then are we comforted. Only then do we feel embraced and protected. So the next day I’m missing the kids or Mom and Dad and feeling inconsolable, I’ll pop a pop tart into the toaster, and voilá…I’m certain I’ll be better in no time!

It isn’t all about the food, either. There’s comfort in the familiar. Just last week, I was talking with friend Meg about the consolation I get from watching old TV shows on Netflix, such as Hawaii Five-O, or The Rockford Files. They’re from a time and place where I was happy and secure…and so they are my comfort now when I look up and ask, “Where the hell am I and what am I doing here?” For forty minutes, I can lose myself, forget where and when I am, and just be. Ahhhhhhhh…….

Thank you, Woody, and Zane, and Hunter! You’ve made us both so very happy today!