Last week I did the post of the pictures of my life leading me to where I am. Looking through all those pictures was, well, hard for me. So many faces, so many memories, so many years ago.
Some of my favorites were of my paternal grandparents. The pictures of my sister and I with my grandparents brought back wonderful memories. We saw them several times a year, but we'd always spend a week of our summer with them. They'd take us to the local fairs where we'd stuff ourselves with carmel
corn and candy apples and ride everything at least once. They'd take us fishing where my grandma would pack us lunches with a thermos of her home made lemonade, the best lemonade ever. They'd take us to strawberry fields where we could pick our own strawberries, and honestly, I don't think I've ever tasted strawberries better than those we'd pick when I was a kid. They'd take us to visit our 'odd' relatives that always creeped
us out just a bit, and they'd show us off with so much pride. They'd take us to the drive-in movies and my grandma would pop the best corn to take with us, but they would always fall asleep during the movies.
Looking back, I don't think I could possibly have appreciated them as much as they deserved, but I did appreciate and love them, and I'm sure they knew that I did.
When I was older, and after I'd left my first husband, I use to work in accounting 8-5, 5 days a week and bartended
6 nights a week with Sundays off. Every Saturday night when I'd get out of the bar, I'd go home, get my dog and head down to my grandparents, a 3 hour drive, getting there around 5 or 6 am. I'd get a couple hours of sleep and then take my grandparents around town to get their groceries and whatever chores they needed done. My grandma would fix a great meal (the lady never got too old to cook!), I'd take a bit of a nap and head back home late that afternoon. I did this every week for over a year. My grandpa had gotten too old to drive safely, not that he ever drove safely...or completely sober, and walking to the store had gotten to be too much for my grandma. It was never a chore, I looked forward to it every week. They knew I loved them.
I spent my last night in Indiana before leaving for Texas at their house. The morning I left my grandpa took me to the gas station and filled my car up for me. My grandma filled my front seat with food and gave me $20. I'll never forget tears flowing down my face as I drove off, watching them in my rear view mirror, standing together in the middle of their street, waving goodbye to me.