Tuesday is for Twinkies

ImageWhat do death, spiritual life, the grief process and Twinkies have in common? More than you would think. Several years ago, our family came up with a holiday tradition. On Christmas morning, my three teenagers saw that Zombieland was playing on one of the 375 plus ridiculous number of channels on the television. Being of tender sensibilities, not interested in gore of any kind, I protested, but they assured me it would be fine, it would be funny.

Not appropriate for Christmas!

Don’t worry, mom, you’ll like it. It’ll make you laugh.

They were right. We decided, the next year, it would be fun to have a box of Twinkies on hand as we watched. Everyone in the family was given an unopened Twinkie resting in it’s shiny little cellophane sheath. The rule of consumption was simple: you must not eat your Twinkie until Woody Harrelson’s character is foiled at least once in his movie long search for the last remaining Twinkie in zombie ravaged America. After that, your Twinkie is fair game. Eat at will.

Simple enough. Interactive. Silly. Sometimes we’d throw in doing a jigsaw puzzle, too. The point is, we were together, laughing, eating, enjoying.

So this year, as you know, we are three family members less than we were last Christmas. Suddenly. And it’s almost Thanksgiving. And it’s almost Christmas. And Hostess is closing and suddenly Zombieland seems more real than it ever did – the shelves of all the local stores are barren of Twinkies. And suddenly everywhere I look I see endings. The ending of eras, a corporation, the ending of a family tradition that barely had legs to stand on,  the death of my parents, the death of my sister, the disappearance of the Twinkie, a sweet fluffy ghost of childhood.

I put out a desperate call on Facebook: Friends, I have one request…if anyone can get me a box of Twinkies before they are all gone, I will love you forever. We started a Christmas tradition a couple of years ago that involves Twinkies. Not sure why I did not stock up… just one box…………….it will help me a lot to get through the holidays. This sounds a bit pathetic but it’s true.

Tonight, one of my daughter’s friends showed up at the door with a tray full of hand made Twinkies that he and his mother had baked this evening to soothe my heart.

If you need anything, anything at all, you just ask. And if you need more of these on Christmas, they’ll be here. 

It’s the little things, you know, the joymakers. Only a few hours earlier I was sobbing on the lap of a friend, recalling my sister’s last night. Now, somehow, I feel better.

Headline reads: Twinkie battles death and wins!

Sometimes you not only get what you want but you get what you need, too.

update: if you click on the first time I use the word Twinkie in this post, you can read a blog post by photographer Dwight Eschliman who deconstructed a Twinkie by photographing its 37 ingredients. If you click on the last time I use the word Twinkie in this post you can see his 37 photos. Enjoy!

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About reneetamara

Writing about death, mental illness, spirituality, art and perfume. Because beauty feeds the soul, and love is beyond what we think.

2 responses to “Tuesday is for Twinkies”

  1. Garce says :

    I have within easy reach of where I’m typing a red white and blue box of Hostess Zingers. When i heard the news it occurred to me that my kid had never had any Hostess products, nostalgic to baby boomers, including Wonder bread which builds strong bodies 12 ways, don;t ask me how. These are raspberry Zingers, which, while not twinkies are adequate representatives of the genre. I think I’ll have one as soon as the coffee is ready.

    Yesterday I sent you a book.

    “Where are you, you little yellow delicious bastards?” Garce

  2. reneetamara says :

    Thanks for the smile, Garce. I will let you know when the book arrives. Have yet to taste a rasberry zinger.

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