Years after my father passed away it wasn’t uncommon for people to ask me how I was doing now that I was in this world without him (most people who knew me also knew that my father and I had developed a uniquely close relationship). So, maybe because of this, every time someone inquired about his passing they typically approached me in a cautious, overly antiseptic way, as if they thought that their ability to gently remove my bandaid somehow gave them the permission to inspect my wound.  What surprised most people was that regardless of how gentle they had been, once the bandaid was removed there was no wound to view.  Then they seemed to be puzzled, and sometimes even disappointed… not because there wasn’t a wound, but because they realized I was okay not having one.

Today is my typical two week appointment to have my mani/pedi.  I always feel totally refreshed after seeing my beauty guardians (my manicurist, a Vietnamese doll-like woman with cascading dark curls and my hair stylist, a petite American MILF with fashion forward style, a rockin’ little body, wit beyond age, and ebony straight hair – both of them are young women whose devotion to their families truly warms my heart). There’s something so completely refreshing about having my hands and feet pampered… today is that day.  A natural look, or a light neutral, and sometimes a pink shade on my fingernails is totally signature.  This afternoon I’ve chosen a single coat of Sweetheart by OPI, and on my toenails… a dark, vampy color (suited more towards my mood) called Midnight in Moscow, also by OPI.  Love love love the names that OPI gives their nail polishes – maybe it’s my “writer thing.”  Pinking of You is another one of my favorites!  Today is a flipflop-hot, fan yourself-cool day, so my twenty girlie nails and I are definitely showing up on time.  With the summer ready to burst everyone out of spring’s more modest fashions, less is definitely more!  A quick stop at the local smoothie shop for an acai and almond protein shake is a must for me on a sun ray-squelching, day like today (way too freakin’ hot for the gym… cheating!! “add a fat metabolizer to that, pretty please”)!

Air conditioning!! Ah…warm minty water with jets massaging my bare, relieved feet, a smoothie straw inserted between my moist puckering lips, and my hands are ready to be adored.  My beauty guardian is just ending a conversation with someone on her cell phone.  She hangs up, rolls her eyes, and then she takes her seat in front of me as she exclaims, “I’m not going to talk to the stone!”  She carefully picks up my left hand.  “Hmm?!”  I say with my lips still pressed around the straw.  “Talk to the stone!  You know…”  She is very animated today.  Her eyes are wide with conviction and her eyelids are flashing like urgent Morse code!  I can barely keep up with her cinematic-like eye contact.  “They are planning for another party.  Every year it’s same.  She die over ten years ago and every day on that day everyone has party (in remembrance of her).  Then they go to her stone!”  Ok, now that I realize that she’s talking about someone’s grave I’m catching on.  “You know that, Amber?  Why I’m going to talk to her stone?” My manicurist has good enough English to make her points known to me… and I find her accent very endearing.  She stops filing my nails and holds both of my hands, looking directly into my eyes, as if she wishes to hold them too, “When she was alive, my grandma, we talked.  I celebrate her birthday with her, Amber.  No one else talk to her.  Now they want talk.  They talk to her stone.”  She shakes her head and resumes filing my nails.  Under her breath she mumbles, “Why they didn’t talk when she was here… stupid…”

There is comfortable silence between our chairs (the typical processing time for our enamel polished philosophical encounters is about two minutes). I’m glad she has peace with her grandmother… I remember the last time I saw my father before he died.  He had taken me to the airport after one of my visits to see him.  Upon arriving at the airport I had excused myself to check the flight schedules.  As soon as my dad saw me returning to him (from at least 15 yards away!) he started to announce in a beamingly loud voice, “Here comes my daughter!  That’s my daughter! Look at my daughter!  That’s my girl!  How beautiful is my daughter!”  Of course the entire airport, including the planes were staring at me!!  (I’m seriously hiding all over again, just remembering this…)  Afterwards while we were waiting for my plane we sat, we talked, we laughed, and then he asked me whether or not I was going to be okay “if something happens” (he meant if he were to die… we had been battling his cancer for over two years).  I promised him that I would be… and there was something within me that knew I would be, but this was only because my father and I were always more than merely “okay.”  When it was time for me to leave, we gave each other a huge hug (bear hugs were his specialty) and a kiss goodbye.  He was smiling like a little boy as I stepped onto an upwards moving escalator.  He stood at the bottom, watching me ascend.  I almost turned around for a last wave goodbye… “No, don’t.”  I stopped myself.  I was never sure when the last time we’d see each other would be.  “This is a perfect moment,” I thought.  “Remember him smiling just as he is.  Just in case…  Walk forward.”  I made myself walk forward… right off the escalator and I never turned around.  That was the last time we ever saw each other… my father died shortly afterwards.

I can not emphasize how important I believe it is to say those things that you feel you need to say to everyone in your life right now!  Not later, not soon, not when you or the other person will be in a better mood, not at the next holiday, the next time you’re going to see them, or when you think there will be a more appropriate time, or a “right” time.  Death can be swift.  The last time I checked, death doesn’t check in to ask us whether this is a convenient time for it to end our chances of communicating with someone it’s planning on taking away from our world.  As I write this it reminds me of a character in my novel, Love Nots!, a father who had never made time for his son… until the day he learns that his son has been murdered… “Holding himself he ached, terminally. Hopelessly. Unable to lie. Unable to hide. He searched his memory for the comfort of a hug he had at one time shared with his son. There had been none to remember. Not one. He cried, sorry . . . yearning to know the feel of his son.”  He cries out, “How could you? You son of a bitch! You selfish son of a bitch! How could you leave me so soon?!”  While this may be just one quote from a novel, the truth is that many scenarios similar to this are sadly far from fiction… and relationships don’t have to end this way.

I really believe that the more present we are with the people who are significant to us while they’re alive, the easier it can be for us to have peace in their passing… plus it gives us a chance to load up on all the everlasting treats that life has on hand for us to share with them!  Maybe this means telling someone that you think they totally suck rotten hardboiled eggs in terms of being your friend and that now you’d rather be eating tasty gourmet omelets (with or without this “friend”).  Or, it may mean thanking your sibling-loyal mate for graciously considering how tired you were before they committed the two of you to go to (yet another) one of his or her sibling’s one act plays… This time it’s a Pamela Anderson for PETA impersonation… last time it was Cindy Lauper “just want(ing) to have fun” in the New York subway station (beginning roughly between 1:30-2:00 AM on the green line that’s just south of Harlem) because this rising star is convinced that it’s her niche marketplace and that she is sure to be discovered there!  Perhaps, it means declaring your love to someone!  There are a countless number of thoughts and feelings that are yearning to be given life through your words!  The bottom line is that one day you will never see that someone again.  More often than not when that last day arrives, you will never know it has… until you look back in hindsight, past the shadows of their stones.  Will you have peace in terms of the way things were left and how you said goodbye?

Today, like most days, my doll-like, beauty guardian treated me as if I were her favorite client.  She gave me a discount in honor of my birthday.  She complimented me on the silly things that I tend to be too hard on myself for.  She pampered me and laughed with me… and she told me (during the midst of our mutual concern for one another’s personal affairs) that while I may be one of her clients she also considers me her “friend.”  That was really nice to hear.  By letting me know how she felt she created an opportunity for me to let her know that I also consider her my friend… a mutual friendship that has developed for over a year that had never been put into words before today.  I’m really glad that it was spoken because I’m not so sure that expressing this would have felt as nice… if I had been talking to her stone.

So…. Ladies and Magenta-men (another color by OPI) here’s to making Mauve-lous Memories (yes another) with the people whom we love while they’re still here to love!  P.S. Who Comes Up with These Names (yep, that’s another)!  lol!  This is fun!!! Orange You Glad It’s Summer (you guessed it!)?  I am!