Don’t you love it when you’re stuck behind a four-door Buick that’s going 30 in a 50 mph zone? And just when you swiftly pull around the car and speed up to be first in line at the stoplight and the Buick pulls up moments later to your right.
You look over and the person behind the wheel of the Buick is a sweet blue-haired lady.
I found myself with clenched fists wrapped around the steering wheel the other day and low and behold, there she was. I had followed her for the better part of a couple of miles; she was weaving so I quickly sped by her.
At the light when I spotted her, the reel of 1978 flashed across the big screen of my mind.
Lucille was a sweet blue-haired lady who became my summer bestie.
My dad hired her each summer to stay with me while he worked. When the end of school approached I would count the days until Lucille would drive up our driveway, yes, in her big four-door Buick.
When Lucille arrived she’d make herself at home in the Lazy Boy and usually read a book. She’d play school with me and assume the role of a student as I taught her a lesson for the day.
For lunch, she’d make us well-done hamburger patties. Mine was always topped with a slice of American cheese served with canned green beans. This was her go to specialty.
Dad didn’t know it, but we’d watch her daily show called Days of Our Lives. In the late afternoons, I could watch Eight Is Enough and Happy Days.
A couple of days a week Lucille would drive us into town and take me to the city pool where I took swimming lessons. She’d lie on a pool chair and watch me swim around.
After every swimming lesson, Lucille would surprise me with a Butterfinger Bar from the concession stand that doubled as the admission desk and a makeshift locker room.
Summers with Lucille were fun and carefree.
Some days she’d nod off in the Lazy Boy, but that was our secret.
It’s amazing how we can randomly recall memories like these, and in such great detail, in what seems like a split second.
Suddenly I was no longer put out by the slow driving, blue hair next to me at the stoplight.
Summer is here and I hope you recall some sweet memories of your own!