There are periods in your life that you don't realize came to an end until you are long past them. That was certainly the case with my family going out and doing things together. In 1984, I had no idea that the tribal unit in which I had spent my entire life was starting to splinter, never to return again to the glory and gory years of my youth.
Looking back, I found that the summer of 1984 was the last time we went out to the movies together as a family. Mom, Dad, Loyd and I had gone up to Roswell to do some stuff. We ate up there and then decided to go see a movie. "Ghostbusters" had just come out. I had gone up to Roswell to see it the previous weekend, but something happened to the sound about 30 minutes from the end and I didn't get to see the rest of it. I recommended we go see that. Mom asked if I thought she would like it. I asked, "Did you like 'Stripes?'" She said she did. "Then you'll like this, too."
When I was a younger teenager, I had a tendency to sit apart from the family anytime we went to the movies. This time, we all sat together. We were actually lucky enough to find four seats together, but I don't know why we did. It's now rather bittersweet to look back at that night and remember that all four of us had a good time at the movies without knowing that we would never do that again.
We continued to do some family things together. Later that summer, we went to the family reunion that was held by my Grandma Bend's brothers and sisters. (There were eight of them and they all had lots of kids, grandkids and great-grandkids. Their mother was still alive, so she was there with her great-great-grandchildren.) However, I was working at the radio station that weekend and I only got to spend one night at the campground where we held the event every year. I had to drive there by myself and I didn't really spend much time with my immediate family because I was busy catching up with all my other second cousins.
We still had Thanksgiving and Christmas together for 1984 and 1985. The strange thing was that for Thanksgiving 1985, even though Loyd and I came up to my Grandma Ogolon's in Portales with Mom and Dad, I didn't get to have the traditional dinner with everyone. I wound up working at the station. I actually wanted to work more than I wanted to eat with the family, but I think that had something to do with having to sit at the kiddie table in 1984. After my shift, I did go back to my grandmother's and spend time with the family, but it was mostly to catch up with my cousins.
I guess I'd always had this idea in my head that I would be getting married to someone in a few years and this mystery person would become a part of my family. Loyd would also find someone to marry and we would be this larger family that would go out and do things together. We would have our children and the family would continue to thrive. This is probably what my parents expected, especially my Mom. But it's certainly not the way it worked out. In a few years, Dad would divorce Mom and the family that I knew for more than 23 years was just no more.
I'm glad that I can recall how things used to be. I mean, we were a dysfunctional family, but my memories of the good times are just as strong as my recollections of the bad times. It helps to balance things out.
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