Lola and Cheerios

Memories of Lola
Robin Hoselton

Hovering in the cereal aisle of the supermarket, I checked the shelf tags. Because of my puny Social Security, I must diligently watch for the Buy One-Get One Free sales.

While I reflected on how crucial these sales are since my new air conditioning system wiped out my emergency savings, a soft voice close by said, “Hi.”

I barely glanced at the woman although I did note her friendliness. Most shoppers say “Excuse me” when passing by. I returned to my cart and wondered if it were really true that Cheerios are heart healthy.

“Robin?”

I looked at the vaguely familiar face but I knew no one with that color hair. The ladies in my Red Hat group had gray or dyed blonde hair. None of my neighbors or ex-work colleagues were blessed with that unusual tawny color.

Should I get the multi-grain or the cinnamon Cheerios for my free box? I debated this while staring at the woman who persisted in smiling at my apparent blank countenance.

“Surely I haven’t changed that much, have I? I’m Ann,” she said.

In the blink of an eye, all thoughts of Cheerios flew into limbo.

Of course, I knew her. Her name brought instant memories of her decadent chocolate mint brownies, her daughters’ drawings which once adorned my refrigerator, and her husband who had been the best boss I ever had.

But, especially her deceased kid, Lola, who I’d known since she was three months old. You see, even though Lola grew into an adult, she retained a child-like mentality. If I had spilled Cheerios, she would have gobbled them right off the floor without caring whether they were original or honey nut. So although her family cherished Lola, they couldn’t take her to public places. Thus, when Ann and her family went on vacations, I acted as surrogate aunt and babysat Lola.

Through the years, Lola and I developed a bond. Perhaps I dealt with her recent passing by relegating all reminders of her, like her adoptive family, to the far corners of my mind. I think the term “brain fart,” is vulgar but something in my gray matter caused a short circuit. When my brain disengaged from its selective forgetfulness, I was grateful that I wasn’t a blusher. I would have been beet-red

Ann and I commiserated for a couple of minutes about Lola before we went our separate ways—she to continue shopping and I to resume my contemplation of banana nut oats.

Lola’s joyful spirit had brought much sunshine into my life and that trumped a free box of cereal. But, I finally selected the multi-grain flavor and furtively wiped a tear while remembering the many times I watched Lola chasing chameleons in the garden, or her goofy expression when she came to my house with hot pink polish on her nails.

My brief encounter with Ann left me wondering about the mechanism of senior moments. Will I now forever associate Cheerios with Lola, her beloved black Labrador retriever?

Tagged beloved black Labrador retriever, brain fart, Buy One-Get One Free sales, cheerios, dogs, humor column