I always get a little nostalgic when it’s Fair & Rodeo season in town.
As I said last week, I never showed animals or participated in any events, but I was an avid attendee throughout my childhood.
While it was almost always more related to fair and carnival experiences, there were a few times in my late high school and early college years when I branched out.
Once I got my learner’s permit and eventual driver’s license I became my mom’s “errand girl” and my late grandmother’s chauffeur.
I’m still mom’s “errand girl” nowadays, but find there’s a strange ache in my heart from my chauffer days.
And I know it’s because my grandmother passed in 2015 after a terrible fight with chemotherapy and radiation for a “cancer” I didn’t know the details about.
But, up until last Thursday, I thought I had a fairly decent handle on how far I’d come since losing her – I don’t really subscribe to the idea that grief is linear or that we ever truly get over the losses that impact us most.
And in those regards, my grandmother was a pivotal force in my life and had a huge influence on me over the years.
It was the annual Matagorda Fair & Livestock Association “Senior Day” event last week and it just happened to also bring back a lot of memories for me.
As I looked around the room at the KC Hall, I realized I hardly recognized any of the senior citizens there when I used to know almost 20 based purely on meeting them through my grandmother.
Naturally, that prompted me to try and find someone I recognized in the animated and excited crowd – I think I ended up checking in on only three individuals and even those I’d picked up in passing from this and other jobs I held previously.
If I’m being completely honest, it was a pretty surreal and sobering realization that there is going to come a time when the only people left who remember my grandmother will be her biological grandchildren, Mom and Mike.
My grandmother was an active volunteer in several organizations including the VFW, American Legion, and Catholic Daughters – just to name a few.
Throughout my childhood, she also worked at many local church nurseries and still found time to watch her grandchildren after school, over school holidays, and even when one of us was home sick.
As the eldest grandchild, I had the most time with her and my grandfather growing up – plus I have the most consistent memories, too.
I can easily remember her favorite food orders from local restaurants, helping her dye her hair, driving her to doctor appointments or the store.
I can recall her little quirks like being unable to pronounce “hibiscus,” how she toasted her tortilla straight on the gas burner, how she was a shrewd domino player, or that she had a stash of vintage wrapping paper she recycled for other gifts.
And still, I also remember how she always checked in on her friends and even had me help run errands for them or run over a bowl of soup to someone who was under the weather.
While I had this sudden tidal wave of grief, I found myself watching these other seniors who marked the event as the highlight of their year – that’s the part that brightened my day because I knew that this event was likely to continue and bring joy to so many.
