This is the exact concert my father was watching before it happened. I was thirteen years old, and I can tell you what I wore to church the next day, down to the jewelry. A red -appled print with chunky red, wooden jewelry. This was a great time in my life, before the pain and drama, before anorexia, before I went through alcoholism and depression. We were in the hotel of a small town, situated between King of Prussia and Lake George, New York. I loved Lake George! The owners of the Canoe Island Lodge (where my family continues to vacation to this day, albeit rarely) were friends with my parents, and we their children. We ate out on the lake, waterside service-just the life of the rich and famous, oh man the memories!
So, anyways back to the story. After writing my previous blog this morning, I didn’t want to end things that way with my readers, 🙂 I much prefer to be enthusiastic and uplifting than bitter and whiny. It’s a look that doesn’t suit, well, any of us. So, for me, all it takes, when I have run the gamut of emotions from horror to grief in, say, a five minute timeframe? I absolutely require some comic relief. Jesus is often in on the joke, but today was amazing.
As I climbed the stairs to groom Jesse, I remembered that I have a friend who has terminal cancer. The soccer team in Thailand, oh my great Lord, that…I craved simpler, easier days gone by-and more than anything? A laugh out loud moment.
I don’t turn the television on during the day. I know that sounds vigilant, but the fact is-I’m not a one chip and end it kind of a girl-if I began the habit of even watching the a.m. news? I would soon be on the path of daytime television, something I abhor. I tape my Y&R, so there is no reason on planet earth to turn that monster on. But today? I had to hear another voice, another humanoid on this planet, and preferably? A comedian. I flicked on the tele and what do you know? My all-time favorite episode of Friends: when Ross’ ex wife delivers their baby-making me scream fits of giggles, and turn my mood from dour to, at the very least, having a sense of humor about the dourness.
Oh, man. I really diverted. So this morning’s blog, featuring Miss Tina Turner, reminded me of the evening we were in that hotel. My sister and mother asleep in one bed, me on the couch, and daddy-who was sitting on a chair and had not retired for the evening. Because he was watching this concert, and because I love this music, I was awake as well. How could you sleep through this? Slowly, from the corner of my eye, I see my poor brother-his cot is folding up on both sides.
“Umm. Dad?,” he says.
At this point my dad is three sheets to the wind, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t hear Craig the first time. By the time my father noticed, my brother’s body was literally in the shape of a U. The very same U the by now, completely closed cot, was making.
Dad looked to me, but I was of no help. For all he knew, I was dead, as I was laying on the floor, laughing so hard I was sure to need oxygen momentarily. My brother’s voice as shrill as they come, yelling for my father, who eventually stood up-removed himself from the sight of Ike and Tina, and saved the day by unfolding said cot, and my brother, thusly.