“What do you think Veronica?”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
She looked me over critically.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
“Oh, you do not think I look fancy,” I said.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
“Well, it’s your shoes,” she told me.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
This weekend was a set of memorial services. We had to drive all day to go to my father’s memorial, and stick around to drive to her sister’s memorial the next day.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I packed only one black dress, and a pair of comfortable shoes.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I figured one black dress was enough. And this was family, so comfortable shoes were in order.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
My daughter was not so easily impressed.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I remembered these people I had known all my life. I thought about the younger ones, and realized I’d be making my impression on them. As I had remembered my older cousins throughout their lives, I would be making impressions on these younger impressionable cousins.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Maybe Veronica was right. I did not cut an elegant figure.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Should I have taken the time to pack a pair of heels? Maybe I should have brought pantyhose instead of my ubiquitous black tights.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Being the youngest child of the youngest child on my father’s side, I had always thought of myself as the youngest one.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
But as Stevie Nicks says, children grow older and I’m getting older too.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I’d like to impress my young cousins with my je ne sais quoi<\/em>. But I also know I am going to need comfortable shoes to get through this weekend.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n There will be a lot of hugs, and a lot of stories. And the stories we tell, the fact that we get together to tell them, will become a new set of stories we tell.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I suppose I would like to cut an effortlessly elegant figure as I mingle.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Then again, that was never the point of these gatherings. It’s a lot more about the hugs than the rakish angle of hemlines.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Still, I might want to invest in some should that are comfortable AND elegant. But I won’t let that stop me from the hugs and the stories.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" “What do you think Veronica?” She looked me over critically. “Oh, you do not think I look fancy,” I said. “Well, it’s your shoes,” she told me. This weekend was a set of memorial services. We … Continue reading