22 December 2012

1 seeing vieve in memphis

i'm in memphis. looooooooong story, but i'm here now.

my dad has the flu. like some sort of super-powered flu. it's for reals serious. to a degree that when i arrived in town, i rang the doorbell and asked my mother if it was really safe to come in.

my father's flu has necessitated the rearrangement of our family christmas, and debo and i are on super-powered, super-expensive anti-influenza pills. it's an excellent time to be without insurance.

so we are all very powered up.

despite warnings of a SEVEN DAY contagious period, my father is convinced he's not contagious. he wants to hug, often and enthusiastically. my mother and i are, accordingly, treating him as though he has the plague. giving him "air hugs" and asking that he touch nothing in the whole house.

and yet what is weird in all of this- because, let's face it, that's pretty normal for my family- is that vieve is here. she keeps popping up and i'm all like, oh yeah, YOU'RE here.

she doesn't seem to belong. she looks darker here, her fur a different hue against the different floors. thinner too. or, at least, more stretched out.

last thing, and it's totally unrelated: there's this guy in the neighborhood who dresses up as santa every year. a few years back, when my father and i were doing our christmas eve walk, we ran into him driving around in a red car, shouting out the open window, ho ho ho.

we were passing a house with this kid standing in the front yard. and i remember the awe on his face and how he immediately ran to get his sister because santa was there.

today, that santa was standing on the sidewalk on the busiest road by my parents house, waving to everyone who drove by. he was there when i drove into town this afternoon and when debo and i went back out tonight to return the rental car i'd driven down in.

it's an emotional time for my family. christmas, and this one especially. so i'm maybe a little more sensitive than usual. but i say in all honestly, i don't know that i've ever been so moved as when, following in the car behind her, i witnessed how enthusiastically debo waved back to that santa standing on the sidewalk.

or how, after we'd been briefly separated in traffic, we were reunited and she waved with equal enthusiasm to me.