Saturday, July 07, 2007
~:D R E S S I N G • U P • O U R • G E N E S:~
So Dad, as it turns out, was quite hurt when no one asked him to put on a dress at the reunion. He felt left out. Tonight at dinner, the costume box with all the pretty pretty dresses and fantastic wigs arrived at their front door. Dad rushed to open the box. "Tom!? You don't have to OPEN the box. Just put it in the closet!" Mom says.
We just hear the ripping of tape and the soft, alluring rustle of taffeta and lace. Then in walks Dad a few minutes later, sauntering into the kitchen like he's Sophia Loren's thick-boned sister. "Take my picture, please. Take my picture."
Snip snap. Click goes the camera.
Dad's feeling better these days. Gone are the old excuses of feeling tired from radiation, nausea and every other side effect you can dream up when fighting cancer. He's a trooper. The most patient man I've ever met. And the silliest. Oh, how I love him this way. Healed and even funnier than he was before.
Next comes Anton. We slip the wig onto his head, He's tinkerbell with a thyroid problem. Barbie on a binge. Stepping out into the brave new world of the Dusenberry family, where all things inappropriate make you laugh, as they should. In spite of life's unfairness, its game of chance, its unfair odds.
I'm learning to live in the moment.