Would you like to dance around the world with me?

The White and Black Uniforms

A few nights ago, Berta (Lindsay's mom) was telling us about her and Bill's visit to the Rose Bowl Parade events. Instead of going to the actual parade, they went to see the marching bands perform. She thought the shows were excellent, but the main thing on Berta's mind were the uniforms (see, Berta was our high school marching band's uniform keeper, so of course she had an opinion of the uniforms). She was particularly excited about one band's uniforms that were black on the right half of the person and white on the left half of the person. Now, Berta went on about their upkeep and how striking they were, but that's not really relevant to the story.

I bring up these uniforms because it's the best way to describe how I'm feeling. It feels like one half of me is completely happy and lucky - I've done a good job on Constellation and was recognized for it, and now I get to move onto a flight project; I got to spend time with family over the holidays and get away from work; I'm dating a great guy who makes me smile a lot; I have a place to live and a warm bed; I mean the list could go on, and I probably should continue listing only the positives. Then the other half is sad and is constantly haunted by images of my dad's last days. Whenever there is a lull - like when I am driving, or trying to fall asleep, or sometimes even a quiet moment at work - my mind reminds me with scenes from the hospital or from the funeral that my dad is no longer with us.

I flip back and forth between these two sides (insert some simile about a marching band pivoting back and forth, switching between the two sides of their white and black uniforms) in a heartbeat. It's a very odd feeling to be utterly happy one moment and wanting to cry out (or punch a wall!) the next. These next few weeks will be rough, so bear with me, and I promise some entertaining stories soon!

posted by Biff @ 1:53 AM