THERE'S NO EVENT

         This is probably the loneliest Memorial Day I’ve ever had. It brings back memories of other holidays when John and I invited people for a BBQ potluck. Back in the day, John performed at least half, if not more of the chores involved with such an event. At one point in time, our circle of family, friends and neighbors was rather large. It saddens me to see how much it that circle has contracted over the decades. But, that’s life, right.

          Today, it’s rained off and on, but AJ and Haley came by for a while so AJ could look at what Haley and I accomplished last Wednesday. And, yes, AJ hauled away some stuff, consigned other junk to the garbage can, or recycle. I was celebrating that progress when AJ indicated the toolboxes on the shelf were also filled with tools. That comment excited Haley and she said, “We’re going to have such fun on Wednesday Nana.” I just shook my head because I thought those were empty boxes.

I did manage to get my walk in after AJ and Haley left. The rain stopped just long enough and was beginning again just as my walking partner and I arrived back at the beginning. It’s rained on other holiday occasions, but I’m remembering the ones filled with sunshine, the sound of people talking, children laughing, cans going pffffffft as they opened, bottlecaps being removed, the grill sizzling, plates and silverware singing as guests filled them.

          I also remember the smells of potato and macaroni salad, hamburgers, hotdogs, brats, potato chips, onions, tomatoes, baked beans, pickles, pie and cake. My tummy is rumbling at all this remembering. What I wouldn’t give for a nice charred brat with spicy mustard and a big helping of potato or macaroni salad right now.

          What wonderful days those were and how I took them for granted. Yes, I was getting older, but that seem didn’t matter so much. Where there’s a will (and I had it) there’s a way. Just last year, and I don’t remember if it was for Father’s Day or Mother’s Day or just because, but I marinated three large flank steaks in Yoshidas sauce and cooked them on the grill. We also had corn on the cob, baked potatoes and I don’t remember what else. It was all yummy and while our circle was only the family, it was a festive occasion. I didn’t realize then it would be the last time. I just figured I’d keep on doing it until I couldn’t any longer.

          I think it was probably Father’s Day, because there were some slices of steak left which I put into the freezer and I ate those after John died. In any case, if it weren’t for the pandemic, I would have probably invited people to come to my house today for a potluck BBQ. Or, perhaps I would have been invited to someone else’s for a BBQ.

I’m sure we would have talked about missing John at this, my first big gathering of 2020. It would have been nice to talk about him and to share various memories of past Memorial Day events rather than just recalling them all on my own. Instead of the silence inhabiting my home, broken only by Kaizer’s snores, there would have been laughter, voices, other sounds and smells that would have made me feel so much less lonely.

There’s also the memories of the end of those events that have flooded back as well. I truly miss those today. As our guests gathered up their kids, dishes, partners, we would have accompanied them to the door. There, we would have hugged, maybe kissed, and maybe said I love you amongst the thank yous for having us and our thank yous for coming.

When the last guest left, then John (back when he helped out 50%+) and I would clean up and look at each other with love and affection. Often, he would tell me what a great time he had, what a good job I’d done, and we’d talk over the day. John would have some information I didn’t get and vice versa. We’d relive the event together and that was always almost as much fun as the event itself.

Today, there’s no event. There’s no hugs and kisses and I love yous. There’s simply silence and loneliness and the memories of days gone past.