Who Is This Woman?
Wed., August 6, 10:54 AM
Recently I realized that it’s not just depression or lack of ambition. I seem to have lost my self-respect. Never have I been this unkempt — or it is verklempt? First I was neglecting housework and laundry; now it’s my own appearance.
I can’t remember ever being like this. Even when I was stuck at home with three little babies, I had some sense of propriety. I tried to dress appropriately when I went out, and I always used cosmetics. I tried to be neat. My usual outfit this summer has been sandals, shorts, and a T-shirt. Going out means a clean shirt. Makeup? Granted, I had to stop wearing eye makeup around eye surgery, but that was last year.
The sandals have been wonderful. They’re from the same manufacturer who made the sandals I wore when Son and Daughter-in-Law got married. They have lots of room for the misshapen toe, and protection for the neuropathic feet. (I’ve been cheated once again; that wasn’t supposed to happen if I kept my sugar under control.)
But this past Sunday was a celebration. My brother, who has been living on the West Coast for the past fifteen years or so, was visiting his daughter and her family. (My little brother has two grandchildren! I can’t quite get my mind around that.) I’ve seen him maybe three times since he moved. We would enjoy lunch at our old favorite Royal Palace — Brother and Niece; Son and Daughter-in-Law; Sister and Brother-in-Law; Husband, U.D., and I.
But what was I going to wear? Certainly not shorts and a T-shirt! I found at least three “suitable” outfits that are now too big. That may be gratifying, but it’s really useless. I settled on blue slacks with a fancy blue top, and blue sandals, of course. I also managed to apply cosmetics in an appropriate manner, despite a rather shaky hand. (Now where did that come from? Me?) We argued Husband into clean clothes, gave him a fresh portable oxygen, and off we went. They gave us a corner table, with a lazy susan so we could share our choices, and we spent a really nice couple of hours.
Sister brought lots and lots of old photos, including some that the rest of us had never seen. For many of the others, there’s a story, and we told a lot of those. U.D. said she couldn’t get over how a phrase — or even a single syllable — could elicit a laugh from both Brother and me. This is the phenomenon of “shared memories,” which is sometimes the best basis for a relationship. (Okay, for us the relationship came first, yeah, I know.) I’ve occasionally found people who share a memory with me, even though we did not experience it at the same time.
Husband sat between U.D. and Son, and for a while I felt as if I were a normal person again. I believe he dozed when he wasn’t eating, and I let the others pick up his dirty kleenices (this plural is not copyright, unlike the singular). His oxygen is released on demand, and he doesn’t breathe in and actually demand it very often, so eventually he was just too [never mind].
So U.D. went to get the car, and Son helped Husband get in. We left the rest of them there enjoying themselves, I guess. I was happy to have the time I did.
By the way, my Daughter-in-law, now in her seventh month, looks wonderful. And she’s still working full time. If we were the same age, I would really feel inadequate. On the other hand, if she ends up with three under three years old… No, I do not expect that to happen.
