I've explained previously the heart and effort that my grandparents put into these fund raiser dinners. Never ceases to amaze. I decided I had to photo-document it.
This time it was hoppin', and so, as a consequence, were my grandparents. Someone (not them) had the brilliant idea of having a silent auction during the dinner. People wanted to get their bids in under the wire, and results were announced at the end, so the crowd never thinned and my grandmother never sat down to eat. 4 hours. She's a lean mean hostess machine.
There she is in white shirt and black pants, her young protégé walking behind. I was introduced to the mentee shortly after I arrived. Grandma was very happy to report that they've been getting more, younger volunteers. They even had two people vying for the plate scraping job. Unheard of.
My great aunt and uncle came this time, too. Very different personalities between sisters, but both endearing. When asked by a member of the congregation if we enjoyed the dinner, I provided the polite, "Yes, thank you." Marge said, "Well, it's not how I make spaghetti at home, but... Couldn't you put some spices in there?" I had to stifle a guffaw. Mary prays for souls; Marge provides comic relief.
Despite the hullabaloo and much to my grandma's chagrin, many of the silent auction items were left without a bid. The kitchen closed at 3 pm sharp, and so commenced the tear down. Within an hour of my arrival, it was as if nary a meatball had been served. There's Grandpa Gene: white head and black sweater vest.
In one of several trips to the car with my grandma and Marge to load the centerpieces (which my grandparents supplied once again), my great uncle commented to an on-looker, "Jeez, you don't think they're related, do ya?", and so prompted the last photo shot by him at my request. Yes, very related. Couldn't be prouder. (See? The boogie monster's not so scary.)
My grandparents do this—and many, many other things—for the church out of duty and devotion, not in hopes of heavenly reward. So, on their behalf, I hope that when they've passed to the great beyond someone else waits on them hand and foot. I'd be honored to do it...if I'm not caught and booted out, that is.