Ah, yes...today is going to be a wonderful day. The sun is shining and my flowers are magnificent. The shrubberies which my son, Jeffrey, hacked back to the "sho is ugleeee!" stage of obliteration are now leafing out in stunning glory. Even my tummy, which has been hurting me of late, is settling down a bit.
Will all of the springtime exuberance put more pep in my old step? I feel hopeful since I've been more MizDragAss the last few days rather than the MizFlounce, Filled with Effortless Effrontery, whom you all generally would recognize.
I enjoyed the graveside service for my sister, Patsy, as much as I thought I would. It is always moving to have this moment of our lives, the end, captured in memory by acts like standing together and reflecting on the person who has died and all they have meant to you. It was especially moving since so many folks from the past that Patsy and I both knew were there. The walk down memory lane (using what memory I can access) with Patsy was poignantly beautiful.
The only downside were the constant comments that I look like my sister Patsy and Jackie. Now Patsy retained a dewy complexion and good looks until the day she died. Jackie is slender and erect in a way I have never achieved. I have my own charms especially when bedecked in mylar boas but really!! That any of us (the Hill Sisters...Betty, Patsy, Jackie and Judy) ever did look alike...
The only explanation which can account for these comments is that when you grow nigh upon 80 years and beyond all humans begin to look alike. Male and female. Fat from skinny is possible, old fur shur but other than that...clueless. Or, it might be that no one is really looking ie avert the gaze at all costs/there but for the grace of god syndrome. Some of the kind souls making these comments clearly have vision equal to that of a naked mole rat.
I got out a magnifying glass to look more closely upon my visage. Not too bad for a homo sapien which has been especially harassed by reality these past 2 years. Nonetheless, I do see that I am drifting into a definite resemblance to something between Golda Meir and Elsa Maxwell.
If I survive this cancer thing my aesthetician. Fabrice **, tells me that a bit of a nip and tuck, nothing major, could result in this...
Without Fabrice pointing the way I would never have seen the possibilities. But when he gets through with me no one will ever mistake me for any other human female especially the geriatric variety (or, perhaps, a human at all? finally I may look like a creature who lives in a gated community and not an unimproved country cousin).
Anyway, probably all pipe dreams given what I deal with on a day-to-day basis. I go in for a CT scan today. Dr. Muldoon has announced that I am not about to check out right this second but he would like to try yet another chemotherapy on me. The one I am on is apparently not fulfilling all expectations. At the beginning of this whole ovarian cancer gig I thought there was only one treatment available. If that failed I would soon be pushing up daisies. Now I appear to be lurching into a tight relationship with a third salvation wannabe. Details anon!
One good news on the health front: my dear, dear niece...Shelby Buie...had a cancer scare. Somewhat over a month ago they located a cancer in her small intestine. Recently they went in to remove it and it seemed to have shriveled up and run away!! They still scooped out a glob of her innards just to be certain but the medicos have judged her to have scooted out of Harm's Way.
Hooray! That certainly delights me. Now that I think about it, Shelby's good news more that dispels the pall cast by all these "look alike" comments I have endured of late.
Joy and light abounding! Judy (via jeff)
*Tiptoe through the garden. By the window, that is where I'll be. Come tiptoe through the tulips with me. Oh, tiptoe from the garden, by the garden of the willow tree. And tiptoe through the tulips with me. Knee deep in flowers we'll stray. We'll keep the showers away. And if I kiss you in the garden, in the moonlight, will you pardon me? And tiptoe through the tulips with me
** Fabrice exists solely in my mind.
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