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| Jacob Burton, Lexi Nader, Caroline Russell, and Colin Russell |
Friends and family gathered at
Joe 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 Schollmaier
Arena, collecting their diplomas. That’s right, I’m the grandmother, and I’m
not there. Apparently, each graduate got few tickets. Plus Jordan reasoned it
would be a madhouse and a long evening, so we celebrated beforehand. If I’m not
mistaken, Jacob has gone to school with these kids since kindergarten. Jacob
and Lexi will go to Arkansas; I don’t believe at this writing I know where the
Russell twins are going—except they will not go to the same school.
To see Jacob graduate from
high school—even if I’m not there—is a real moment of nostalgia for me. For his
first five years at Sweet Lily B. Clayton Elementary across from my house, I
was 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 to
math. 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 in
the closet for me, blankets and a game for him, and insisted we stay there until
the storm passed. Lots of good memories of his school years. It wasn’t until sixth
grade, 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 for
Joe T.’s tonight—sunny and in the low eighties. We’ve had so much rain, we were
all 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 gods
favored us. I saw a meme of a man yelling, “For God’s sake, stop raining!” and
my first thought was never say that in Texas. The day will come when we all
pray for more rain.
Joe T.’s is tricky for someone
on 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, and
I had a small bowl of applesauce.
The other big bit of
nostalgia: my twenty-year-old, VW Bug convertible went away today; Three years
ago when I gave up my license—driving a Bug while using a walker doesn’t really
work well—I gave control of the car to Christian, hoping he could sell it for
something special for Jacob to use for college. That didn’t happen, but Jordan
drove it occasionally (not with as much joy as I had). Then it wouldn’t pass
inspection, and then it wouldn’t start. So it sat in the driveway, a kind of
grim reminder of a life I’d given up. Still, it was a comfort to me to see it
there. For sixteen or seventeen years, my identity was closely tied to that
car. People all over the city knew where I’d been and what I’d been doing
because they saw not me, but the car. One of my great joys when the Burtons lived
in 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 out
Scottish songs as loudly as I could. (I’m loud, but I don’t carry a tune well
at all). So there went another chunk of my active life. I tried hard not to see
it as symbolic, and Colin encouraged me to see it as a relief. I know Jordan
was ecstatic to get it out of the driveway. What’s next for my Bug? I have no
idea. 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 that
confused me all day—I was sure today was Saturday.
Sweet dreams, my friends.
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