A day of celebration tinged, for me, with a bit of nostalgia
Jacob Burton, Lexi Nader, Caroline Russell, and Colin Russell
Friends and family gathered atJoe T. Garcia’s late this afternoon to celebrate four high school graduates.Tonight, as I am writing, they are walking across the stage at TCU SchollmaierArena, collecting their diplomas. That’s right, I’m the grandmother, and I’mnot there. Apparently, each graduate got few tickets. Plus Jordan reasoned itwould be a madhouse and a long evening, so we celebrated beforehand. If I’m notmistaken, Jacob has gone to school with these kids since kindergarten. Jacoband Lexi will go to Arkansas; I don’t believe at this writing I know where theRussell twins are going—except they will not go to the same school.
To see Jacob graduate fromhigh school—even if I’m not there—is a real moment of nostalgia for me. For hisfirst five years at Sweet Lily B. Clayton Elementary across from my house, Iwas the daytime caretaker. We did homework, though he would sometimes say, “Juju,I think we should wait for my dad on this one”—that almost always referred tomath. We cooked meals and dodged thunderstorms and had lots of sleepovers.There was the night he put a chair, a glass of wine, a book and a flashlight inthe closet for me, blankets and a game for him, and insisted we stay there untilthe storm passed. Lots of good memories of his school years. It wasn’t until sixthgrade, when he was ten, that we moved me to the cottage, and he
and his family moved into the main house.
Renee Hoke, Jordan, Marge Martinez (whose daughter graduated from Keller High
earlier this week), and me
The weather was perfect forJoe T.’s tonight—sunny and in the low eighties. We’ve had so much rain, we wereall afraid the heavens would let loose again this afternoon, but they didn’t.It rained this morning, and I think will rain again tonight, but the godsfavored us. I saw a meme of a man yelling, “For God’s sake, stop raining!” andmy first thought was never say that in Texas. The day will come when we allpray for more rain.
Joe T.’s is tricky for someoneon a soft diet: I had an order of guacamole, but one can only eat so much guac,good as it is. While the Burtons hurried off to TCU, Renee brought me home, andI had a small bowl of applesauce.
The other big bit ofnostalgia: my twenty-year-old, VW Bug convertible went away today; Three yearsago when I gave up my license—driving a Bug while using a walker doesn’t reallywork well—I gave control of the car to Christian, hoping he could sell it forsomething special for Jacob to use for college. That didn’t happen, but Jordandrove it occasionally (not with as much joy as I had). Then it wouldn’t passinspection, and then it wouldn’t start. So it sat in the driveway, a kind ofgrim reminder of a life I’d given up. Still, it was a comfort to me to see itthere. For sixteen or seventeen years, my identity was closely tied to thatcar. People all over the city knew where I’d been and what I’d been doingbecause they saw not me, but the car. One of my great joys when the Burtons livedin Hulen Bend was to put an Alex Beaton tape on (that’s how old the car was—a cassette),put the top down, and drive home from their house through the park, belting outScottish songs as loudly as I could. (I’m loud, but I don’t carry a tune wellat all). So there went another chunk of my active life. I tried hard not to seeit as symbolic, and Colin encouraged me to see it as a relief. I know Jordanwas ecstatic to get it out of the driveway. What’s next for my Bug? I have noidea. The body is worn, but the engine has under 40K miles on it.
Me and the best car I ever owned.
So a mixed day, and one thatconfused me all day—I was sure today was Saturday.
Sweet dreams, my friends.
