Aunt Rhonda

If you were privileged enough to know my Aunt Rhonda, you may have heard these words when she greeted you, especially at a family gathering, "Come here so I can suck your face!". Now, that may be entirely too straightforward while starting off a tribute to my dear aunt; but that was Rhonda, straightforward, with just the right amount of love and comic relief mixed together so perfectly, to make even the grumpiest of men, or a crying toddler crack a smile. Her presence made a family gathering that would otherwise be considered just ordinary, extremely special, because Aunt Rhonda was in the room.

Half way through my sixth grade year Rhonda, and my cousin Justina moved just down the road from us on our family farm. Although this was a trying time in the Becker's life with the loss of my grandmother and a complete life change for our families, the selfish part of me is so grateful for that move and for all the memories acquired because of it. There was no better way to grow up than down the road from family on our family's farm. Rhonda and Justina were my childhood. 

I still to this day will never experience a thunderstorm without thinking of Rhonda. My, how she loved the rain, thunder, lightning and all that came with it. We always told her she missed her calling and should have been a storm chaser. I remember pulling out lawn chairs on the country road and just sitting there watching the storm clouds roll in. Rhonda, wide eyed and grinning lived for those moments, and now I find myself too, getting excited when I check the weather and see a thunderstorm predicted in the forecast. Most people hate the rain, because of Rhonda, and being a farmer's daughter of course, a rainy day is my favorite day. 

Christmas Eves at the Beckers are some of my most cherished memories from childhood, which include all my favorite laughs together in one room. Aunt Laura, Rhonda and my Grandma Becker. It is my hope they are all laughing together again tonight. Rhonda would always make her famous oyster soup, and one Christmas Eve in particular, the lid sealed to the pot so tightly while cooking, it took all the grown men in the room and a drill to remove the lid. She always, even without intending to, managed to create laughter amongst our family. I think I'll be making some oyster soup soon, and if it's acceptable to clink a bowl of soup together with a loved one as a toast to Rhonda, I'll do just that.

Rhonda loved horses, just like her mother, and she was always eager to join in whenever our family moved cattle; and was especially eager to help out during our beloved "Becker Brandin". We designated our family's cherished sorrel horse, for Aunt Rhonda. His registered name was Scooper Bird, but we all called him Scoop. Rhonda and Scoop rode through many pastures together before it was time for Scoop to retire. 

Speaking of the "Becker Brandin", when I was in high school and college, I would always bring a group of friends back from school to experience this event that we all looked forward to every year. My friends were so impressed with my "aunts", Laura and Rhonda. They always knew how to welcome outsiders with open arms and smiles. My friends experienced so much love and laughter when coming back to Beaver City, and I can thank Rhonda for their memories on the farm. One time in particular, I brought my team home to ride horses and we ended the evening with a bon fire. Rhonda and Laura came over, Rhonda bringing her fire pit, and we all sat around the fire until late into the night enjoying laughs together. She was truly cherished by anyone who had the privilege to meet her, because she was so welcoming, and just downright fun to be around. 

In the summers, on those extra hot days, when driving by Rhonda's house, you would often find her laying out in the sun tanning her legs. She prided herself in her tan legs in the summer time and wore shorts around everywhere. Dad even said, "I think Rhonda is the only person I know who wears shorts in a wheat field and isn't afraid to get chiggers." I used to drive the old combine that Rhonda once drove during wheat harvests. The first combine my grandpa Becker bought, the old 7720 John Deere. When the Becker kids took over wheat harvest, Rhonda was still there helping Aunt Laura and Mom bring dinners to the wheat field. On special occasions, every once in a while, we were blessed to have her homemade fried chicken. If you ever had the privilege to taste Rhonda's fried chicken, you experienced a real treat. 

Rhonda was one of my biggest supporters in high school, someone who never missed a moment to tell me how proud she was of me. She in fact would tell me on several occasions, "Megan, I want to be like you when I grow up." I have saved in a shoe box in my closet in Florida, old cards, notes, and newspaper clippings, that I've saved since elementary school. One special note in particular is from Aunt Rhonda. 

I remember I had just come home from my "breakout" basketball game in the Cambridge Holiday Tournament, to a note that Rhonda had left on my parents kitchen table. I was a scrawny little freshman, hungry to get more playing time, and that night we went up against one of the best teams in our conference, Cambridge High School. In that game, I had 19 points and we won the game in the final seconds of play. I only remember I had 19 points now, from reading the note several times over the years, as it started out, "Congratulations Megan!! 19 points, WOW!!! Rhonda had listened to the game on the radio that night and cried through the whole thing. Anyone who cries tears of joy for their family when they succeed, knows how to love a little deeper than most. Rhonda had a deep love for her family, and although we teased her because she cried so easily; I am grateful for those tears, as every drop was full of love and pride for her family.

That note now, almost 20 years old, has served me in more ways than she can imagine in my high school and college basketball career and even into my adult life as a coach. Sometimes all it takes for someone to work a little harder, and to continue persevering when things get hard, is to know that someone, somewhere is proud of them. I always felt that with Rhonda, she was in my corner. She was in her family's corner, and she was so proud of her family. 

In my adult life, I have found myself crying in silent tears watching my brother Dexter play college football, watching my brother Chase at the state wrestling tournament, turning on my sister's livestream breakaway roping event, and receiving the news that my brother Jerome was officially a dad. And every time I cried those tears of joy and excitement, I thought of Aunt Rhonda and would say to myself, "Oh come on Rhonda, knock it off." 

There's just something about being the big sister in the family, and watching your family grow that makes the oldest daughter so proud. And boy, was Rhonda proud. She was so proud of her kids and their children. She was always telling me about her grandchildren when I would come home to visit. Always had a story to tell of each one of them and the funny things they were saying or what events they were up to. A favorite phrase of hers when talking about her family and watching them in their successes was, "that was so cool!" It didn't take much to impress her, because everything was "so cool". 

Rhonda was love, Rhonda was laughter, and Rhonda was warm. She cared for everyone she met and always went out of her way to make others feel good. She was a caretaker. She always had an ear to lend when someone needed to talk, and always had a laugh to give when someone's mood needed to be brightened. Her laugh now is found in her children, as I would have to say my cousin's laughters are all contagious, just like their mothers. I rarely experienced a laugh with Rhonda without one of my cousins there.

Rhonda's pickup is still being used on the family farm. When I drive it now, with over 350,000 miles tabbed on the beloved blue truck, I'm reminded of the times she would drive Justina and I around and she would crank up the radio and ask us to sing for her. She loved to hear us sing. Old country music songs won't be listened to now without a quick wink up to heaven. 

Although the stories could turn into pages, and the pages could turn into a book, I will end by thanking you my dearest Aunt, for the cherished memories I have with you. Rockin' Rhonda, as we would call you, thank you for the rockin' good times. 

Love Always,

Meg