04/02/2026
The Parkay Tubs That Built My Values
On paper, my grandmother could have afforded to be wasteful. In real life, she refused.
She grew up through the Depression, in Chicago and on an Iowa farm, and she carried this unshakable belief that if something *could* be repurposed, it *should* be repurposed. Those habits didn’t just shape her trash can—they shaped how I think about people, resources, and the ripple effect of every choice I make.
My clearest memory? Those pale yellow Parkay margarine tubs with the navy blue stripe. She used them for everything: soup frozen for later, leftovers in the fridge, catching water from a leaky sink, holding odds and ends, and sometimes, she even turned them into our Easter baskets. The same little plastic bin, doing a hundred different jobs.
She had the money to throw things out and buy new. She just chose not to. That quiet choice over and over again is what taught me to be mindful, to use things well, and to treat people and the planet like they matter.
She’s been gone a long time, and I miss her fiercely. But getting to tell you these tiny stories feels like keeping a piece of her alive.
If this reminds you of *your* person—the one who taught you how to live, not just how to consume, like, follow, and share so their stories keep moving too.