By: Lora Wimsatt
I swing my granddaughter up into my lap and lean in close as I sing one of my favorite Beatles songs – “Little darling, it’s been a long, cold, lonely winter” – and although Briley has never heard that melody before, she offers a beautiful smile.
Lyla is at my side now, and the determined look on her face says she wants to sit in my lap too. Briley agreeably shifts over to make room for her little cousin, and I hug them both tight and almost weep for joy as they hug me back.
We have all gathered for a family celebration, but even as our family gets bigger and bigger, I am delighted more and more by the littlest members, my granddaughters.
I love who they are and who they are becoming.
I feel the same way about Owensboro. I love what it is and what it is becoming, and while my family is all together, we talk about the new downtown and all the exciting things going on. I have the most to say, but this is one time that nobody argues with me.
I love the riverfront with its meandering sidewalks and abundance of seating. I love the fountains, the benches and café tables, the tall grasses in the landscaping. I love the playground, the clean restrooms and the concession stand. I love the memorial to those who have sacrificed for our nation and community.
I love the Convention Center and I love the idea of people coming to visit from other places. I love that they will walk around downtown and buy chocolate-covered peanuts at Andria’s and fancy coffees at The Crème. I love that visitors can ride the trolley and go see the exhibit at the Owensboro Museum of Fine Art. I love the barnwood décor in the Lure restaurant in the Hampton Inn.
I love it when people are outdoors, walking slowly, alone or in couples, waving a cheerful greeting to neighbors on the other side of the street, stopping to talk to friends as they pass by.
I love the music in the air, whether it’s the recorded music playing in the background at Smothers Park or whether it’s an uninhibited teenager sitting on the sidewalk tooting out a happy tune on a dented trumpet or a dignified elderly lady playing hymns by memory on the painted piano under the gazebo, or whether it’s a band on stage at Friday After 5 or that awesome blues guy with the guitar and harmonica who nods and smiles if you toss coins in his case.
I love the events that fill downtown and overflow across the city and county. The 5K events that raise money and awareness for good causes, bringing together serious racers who warm up and know how to pace themselves, as well as casual walkers who spend most of their energy laughing and talking, everyone wearing T-shirts whose backs are covered with logos of local sponsors who know there is more to being a successful business than making money.
I love the walk-up window at Fetta Specialty Pizza and I love browsing the antique stores and specialty shops, even though I know I will feel sad when someone finally buys that carousel horse I’ve been admiring for years. I love the Bluegrass Museum and I love the RiverPark Center, and every time I go there, I walk away saying it was the best performance ever.
I love looking at my hometown through the eyes of my grandchildren, knowing this exciting and interesting and evolving atmosphere will be the only way they ever remember Owensboro.
I lean down and whisper to my grandchildren. They don’t know this song, but they know they can trust me to tell the truth.
“Here Comes the Sun,” I promise. “It’s all right.”