The day Ralph died, our neighbor rolled up in his wheelchair with his typical expectant look. This was his morning tradition for the past two days when Ralph got a hospital bed facing his beautiful lanai for his scenic journey. With tears in my eyes, I nodded that yes, he had gotten his wings. Tom asked for a hug and then whispered that I should now dress more like a lady and wear a little make up.
Tom had a stroke 15 years ago and is 89 years old. Speaking is difficult for him and he sports hearing aids in both ears. Having a conversation with him requires 100% concentration.
Still, I was a bit taken aback. Really? Of course I do dress in Hawaiian sweats (baggy cotton capris and oversized t-shirt). Lately I had been crying so much (in private, of course, so I didn't interfere with Ralph's joie de vivre) that it made no sense to put on makeup. Maybe Tom had a point. If I look cheerful, maybe I can manage cheerful.
That was an awkward moment. Unfortunately, it was just the first of many to come.
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