Wednesday Story
Once upon a time, my Dad and I went to my Great Aunt Mary’s memorial service in South Carolina. The service was held in the courtyard in front of her house, and then the reception was held inside. Well, Aunt Mary had a groovy sunken living room with maybe a six inch drop. One of her very old friends—she had to be in her 80’s—came in the house and walked into the living room. She didn’t realize that there was a step down and she fell over in slow motion like a tree. It happened so quickly that she didn’t even have time to put out her arms to break her fall. My Dad is one of those people who are great in an emergency situation. He literally ran across the room and tried to catch her, that’s how quickly his mind works in a crisis. She immediately got up and said in a tough old broad’s voice “I’m fine, I’m fine.” {Now, if she had gotten injured I would never have written this story. I’m not that evil. I may have already reserved my place in hell, but it’s not because of what happened that day.} As soon as the lady got up and we knew she was alright, my Dad’s eyes met mine across the crowded room and we both burst into hysterical laughter. I always knew that I laughed when people got hurt or fell down—I even laughed once when I backed into my brother-in-law’s car—but I didn’t know that this was an inherited trait. Believe me when I say that we were the only two people in the room with red faces and convulsing bodies. We had to get it together, and fast. I spent the rest of the loooong afternoon looking out the window laughing, walking around outside laughing, spending large amounts of time locked in the bathroom laughing, avoiding eye contact with my father, and hissing at him to get the hell away from me every time he walked up. This was the only way I could make it through the rest of the day.
I am a psychologist for fuck’s sake, so I understand that we only had this reaction because we were relieved. What I don’t understand is why I still can’t talk about that day without tears streaming down my face even though it occurred more than six years ago.
The End
I am a psychologist for fuck’s sake, so I understand that we only had this reaction because we were relieved. What I don’t understand is why I still can’t talk about that day without tears streaming down my face even though it occurred more than six years ago.
The End
Labels: Wednesday Story
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home