Love Affair

Growing up, most people likened me to my father. I'm somewhat quiet like he is, reserved in unfamiliar social situations, would rather sit at home on a Friday night than go out with friends. He and I are also both "Type B" personalities, or, as Dad says, "Type L for Lazy". My mother, on the other hand, is a go-getter. She can't sit still to watch a movie, for example; she has to get up and unload the dishwasher, or sew a button on Dad's khakis, or email her friend BJ. When something has to be done in November, she gets it finished in July. She is highly organized. My sisters received her enviable qualities. I, for the most part, did not.

I did, however, inherit at least one thing from my mother: an undying, ever-loyal affection for TJ Maxx. Elizabeth, thankfully, shares the same relationship. Macon doesn't have a TJ (yes, I'm on a first-name basis with the store), but Warner Robins (15 miles south on I-75) does. We make plans to visit TJ from time to time and get really excited about it. Or, if Lizzy visits one in Atlanta or Athens or something while she's traveling, she makes sure to provide a detailed account to me when she gets home, and vice versa. Athens, by the way, has the mac daddy of TJ's: a TJ Maxx Home Store. It's somewhere close to the size of Walmart, with a super-sized home department. Fabulous. I get butterflies of anticipation in my stomach just thinking about it.

One time, less than 3 months into my relationship with Cal, he and I went up to Athens for a UGA football game. It was his birthday, and we went to Longhorn to celebrate. Longhorn in Athens is, very conveniently, in the same shopping center as the TJ. He agreed to accompany me, after which he shook his head in confusion. "That's the happiest I've ever seen you, Miriam," he said.

He repeated a smilar sentiment this past summer after we had gotten married. I had gone to Ross and Marshall's, Macon's (sub-par) equivalents to TJ, in order to pick up some decorative items for our house. I happened to hit the jackpot on that particular day, spending way too much money, but, then again, hardly anything compared to the value of all of the goodies that I bought. He couldn't believe my giddiness.

My mother and her friend, Gloria, are TJ fanatics as well. They go to the one in Valdosta as often as they get the chance. While I spend the most of my time in TJ looking in the home dept, they are patient and talented enough to be able to wade through the aisles and aisles of clothing to find deals like you wouldn't believe. I get frustrated if I try to spend too much time with that, so I often don't even attempt the task. Maybe the sorting-through ability is a gift that comes with age and wisdom. I hope so.

People who don't love TJ don't understand the appeal. They, like Cal, walk into the store and see a warehouse full of unorganized junk. They often turn away in disgust and promptly head to the mall where they will, inevitably, pay 2, 3, or 4 times as much money for the exact same item of clothing, brand and all. I consider that a tragedy.

Thank you, Mom, for the legacy. I couldn't have asked for a better one!