One of the first things I do when I get up in the morning is check the date and the day of the week, today is July 10th, Wednesday. The date rang a bell in my brain, but it took me a moment to remember what it signified–it’s the birthday of my old friend, Gloria. I no longer send a birthday card because those who are in heaven have no mailing address but they continue to live in my memories.
Gloria and I were a year apart when we attended the small high school in Durand so we knew one another but didn’t become close friends until we married. Our husbands, Wayne and Ken, had been best buddies since they began first grade together. Wayne was best man at our wedding.
The best vacation I ever had that wasn’t with my family was in 2000 when Gloria and I spent two weeks in Kauai, Hawaii, visiting our mutual friend, Susan. A trip to Hawaii wasn’t even on my bucket list because I thought it would be an impossibility but Ken was able to stay with our daughter, Linda, so I could get away. Gloria worked for United Airlines and I got a special lower rate accompanying her on the plane. On our way back to California, she scored two seats in first class–an area I never would have been able to enjoy on my own.
Gloria and I shared good times and not-so-good times. I miss the couple who were our friends for a lifetime.
I never know when a memory will pop up. On the Fourth of July, when it was fireworks time, I remembered the year when our son, Kurt, was four years old. Daddy was working; the kids and I walked down to the school grounds to claim a spot to watch the extravaganza. Our three kids sat with my parents and I joined some friends on their blanket spread across the grass. As dusk was settling in and the show was about to start, Dad walked the boy to me. “He wants Mommie,” he said and left. It’s the only time I remember Grandpa sounding disgusted with his grandson.
Yesterday, I fixed chicken thighs for supper. I’m glad we can now buy only the parts of a chicken we want to eat instead of a whole chicken. I thought of the time Ken and I were newlyweds and invited his Grandma Stilwell and her husband Harley, for Sunday dinner. I had a lot to learn as a housewife, but I thought I was a good cook. To make the meal special, I had prepared only the meaty parts of two chickens. I was dumbfounded when Harley, an out-spoken fellow, asked, “Didn’t this chicken have any backs?” I didn’t realize some people preferred the bony parts of a chicken.
I have a mountain of remembrances. For a few moments, I travel back in time and enjoy reliving one of them.
What are some of your favorite memories?
The first memory that comes to my mind is when I broke my leg being thrown off my horse while Janice & I were riding one early morning in a neighbor’s field. A strange dog had come to our farm, and he went up in the field with us. We began galloping our horses & this dog began biting my horses heels. She bucked, & I fell off, landing on my left leg. Janice, who was galloping a bit ahead of me, looked back to see me lying on the ground rocking back & forth, holding my leg. She rode quickly back to our farm to get mother & dad to pick me up in the car. That began a 3 month odyssey with a plaster cast & crutches.