The New One, the Blue One, the One I Wore Before

When I was 5 years old, my cousin Rubilee was getting married. This was a big deal to the family because Rubilee wasn't exactly leading a large parade of suitors. Family came in from all over for the wedding and everyone pitched in to make it a fantastic affair. The streamers, balloons, and paper bells had been hung and strung from every available surface. Bowls of jordan almonds, butter mints and mixed nuts were staged on all of the tables. The gift table was set up at a jaunty slant. The guest book, complete with feathered pen stood right at the entrance to the hall. The punch bowl had been polished and shone like a diamond; it was full, and there was a ready supply of sherbert and frozen fruit rings in case it looked like there might be a shortage. The only thing left to do was to get dressed.

I was decked out in my slip and ruffled socks. My hair ribbons, which of course were an exact match to my dress, had been pressed and hung with my dress. I lay across the bed, spying the crinolines that all too soon would become the bane of my existence. The only thing worse were the pin curls affixed all over my head. No mortal, prior or since, could make a pin curl tighter than my mother, and you didn't dare complain because she was equally brutal with a rat tail comb and could thump you with it before you could blink. Ah, but I digress...

I was distracted from my crinoline induced fugue by the ever expanding fog welling up in the room. The source of the fog was the scented talcum powder my Nana, her mother, and her sisters Ina, Ruth and Wilma all seemed to be applying at once. It reached a point it was so thick, you could surely have cut through it with a blunt edged butter knife. The knife, in the form of their high pitched, tinkling laughter, finally cut through.

My Nana, who described herself "as wide as she was tall", had a mass of dark curls and "gander" blue eyes. I loved that woman more than Mickey Mouse, Santa Claus and chocolate dipped pecans. For those of you that know me, that's enough said. For those of you that don't know me so well, suffice it to say--almost more than life itself. Nana said something curious that brought a new peal of laughter so loud, Niagra Falls would sound like a mere whisper.

Standing in her slip and stockings, knotted at the knee, she asked, "Should I wear the new one, the blue one, or the one I wore before?" I had no idea what that meant and thought that surely the heat and the talcum powder had overtaken them all.

At different times in my life I heard my Nana pose the same question. Sometimes laughter was the response and at other times tears, but always a very knowing look shone from behind the eyes that responded to the question. It was after my mother's funeral when I finally asked my Nana what that meant. She and her sister Ruth were sitting in the living room of her apartment at the retirement village. She took a long sip of her iced tea, then said, "They were all the same dress. It was what was happening that told you if you were wearing the new one, the blue one, or the one you wore before."

In my life, my life so far, I've had happy and exciting times. I've had sad and lonely times for sure. I've had humdrum, status quo times as well. 2008 was a year with equal parts of all three. Going forward in 2009, I will wear the new one, the blue one, and the one I wore before--I hope to wear them as Nana would have. I'll strive to appreciate each one.