Monday, June 09, 2008

Ramble from Phair

Yippee...another shared moment from Phair.
Last week, I spent Sunday with five of the most important women in my life. My three nieces, sisters all, and their mother, my sister in law, and my own sister had cleared their collective schedules for us to meet and eat and see Sex and the City.

I got the tickets in advance via the computer and $60 with of credit card debt. I felt like a friggin' genius being able to figure out the directions on my lonesome. Many modern skills are unlearnable for folks in the over 40 crowd. Folks like me.

The Jeep was tanked up the night before with $71 worth of gas. We'll discuss my enormous carbon foot print another time. I set off with time to spare so, no matter what traffic awaited me, I would arrive on time.

Twenty six miles later, I arrived at my sister's house. Her boy ran up and hugged me around the knees while chanting, "Gee Gee Gee." It's all he is able to pronounce of my extensive first name. However, it is more than good enough for me. My heart always feels like it will burst when this kid hugs me. Tears are always close when I hug him back. "I love you more," I whisper in his sweet ear.

My sister's eight month old daughter is more suspicious of me. I swear she remembers that when I show up her Mom disappears for a while. And, the girl will have nothing to do with me. She gave me a quick frown and turned her head away to make me disappear.

We make our departure without tears. Next we picked up my oldest niece. Her escape plan was flawless. All her kids were down for naps and she waited in the yard for us to arrive. We were off in great time for our hour drive to my sister in law's house. My other two nieces would meet us there. The plan seemed reasonable sound. Meet. Eat. Go to the movies. In hindsight, I should have seen trouble on the horizon.

As we approached my sister in law's exit, I suggested we call and order the pizza. My niece fearing her mom would do the same called the house to check. My sister in law insisted the pizza be delivered.

"But we're going right past the place," I tried.

My sister in law had a coupon which was only good for delivery. There is no way to win with my sister in law if there is a discount involved. She almost wet herself when I told her I got the tickets for matinee prices. No, we could not win against a 2 for 1 special.

Here's where things get fuzzy for me. We were waiting and laughing; poking fun at each other. You know, locker room humor for girls. Then I saw it out of the corner of my eye. My sister's chin quivered. Oh no, tears. We strayed too close to a sore and tender wound that is nowhere near healing. We should have known better. It happened so fast. Tears turned to deep, gut wrenching sobs. I did the only thing I'm truly equipped to do. I locked myself in the bathroom and wept into two handfuls of toilet paper. See, I'm good in a crisis because I know my limitations. Hiding is my strong suit.

Fortunately, my sister in law keeps her bathroom well stacked with reading supplies. There's always a Yankee hanging around. This time I got lucky. There was a copy of YOU, the owner's manual. A pretty good read.

Anyway, I managed to stop crying and came out of the bathroom when my sister knocked. We shared a couple of dumb exchanges and a few more tears. Then it was time for pizza. I had my pizza with Advil on top. Slowly, we began to rebuild our momentum, one chuckle at a time.

We were almost back to pre-sob levels as we walked out the door to the Jeep. I got in behind the steering wheel while bodies piled into the usually unused seats. Somebody got jammed in the wayback. Out of habit, I check my phone. I swear I was just looking at the time.

Firing up the engine, I press for messages. It's my GYN (sorry, I can't spell gynecologist). She's wondering if I've repeated some tests I took months ago. WTF! It's a Sunday afternoon. My sister knows something's wrong. "Switch seats," she says, "and call your doc back." It's Sunday afternoon.

My support team began to rattle off all the good reasons my doc would call me. None are anything I should be alarmed about. They're all reassuring but, IT'S SUNDAY AFTERNOON. My doc was easily reachable but the call cut out before she got to the point of calling me on a Sunday afternoon.

Bars.
No bars.
Bars.
No bars.
Bars.
Ring.

Okay, the doc is not worried, so to speak. She just wants me to be sure to repeat the tests. And, get back to visit her. Make an appointment for June 27. Oh yeah, enjoy the movie. My doc is also my sister's doc and my sister in law's doc; one big, usually, happy family.

And, we pull into the parking lot.

Getting to tickets from the kiosk (don't you just love that word) was remarkably easy...if you put your credit card in right. Done. Tickets in hand, it was time to divide and conquer. Nieces and Sister in law go for the seats. My sister and me go for the food. Hey, I'm a large mammal, I know my strengths.

While we were waiting for two hot tubs of buttered popcorn and three reservoirs of diet coke, my sister looked at me and her lip quivered. Don't. Her eyes fill. No. She opens her mouth to speak. Stop. And she says, "Sorry." Fine. I survived the moment without reducing myself to a blubbering mess...again. "Okay, we finished it. Now, let's never speak of this again." Agreed.

I know, you're gonna ask, "How was the movie?" Not nearly as dramatic as the trip to get there.

Phair


Well, the moments getting there are actually more important. Movies come and go, the memories of our life stay with us forever. Glad you got both. Thanks, Phair, for sharing...we appreciate it!

Now on to your updates, enjoy 'em.

Elisa

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