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Fido and Dana are gone; memories are ‘WICKED’

November 20, 2011
Messenger News

Fido is gone. Kaput.

He flew in while I stood at the stove and lit on the black handle, trying to blend in. But I saw him and slowly moved to the fly swatter hanging at the end of the cupboard.

Ka-bam. No more Fido.

It's a little lonely around here now.

Not just for the loss of Fido, but because my daughter Dana has come and gone, too. Way too quickly, though we poured a lot of togetherness into a few days of fun.

She's come from Denver on the train several times, but she hates the train, so this time she checked flights and found one less than $40 more than the train. No way she was letting that pass.

I picked her up in Des Moines so we could go to "WICKED" at the Civic Center. I've seen a lot of stage shows, and that was the best, I think. The last scene of the first act sets the curve.

We stopped at a bar and grill for a quick burger before the show, but it turned out to be a sushi bar. The smooth-talking cook persuaded me to try tempura along with his mother's egg rolls. And why not, Dana questioned. It was time, she said, that I started trying new things in my life.

A reversal of roles, she pushing me to try something new.

It was very good, but doggone it, I got hungry right about the time the first act ended. Good thing my stomach growl got lost in the explosion of music.

We got home late and stayed up later, which is no big deal, except I had to be in Laurens at 9 a.m. that Friday morning- Veterans Day - to talk to the ceremony held at the high school. I was honored by the request, for there are few things I like to talk about as much as veterans and their stories.

I even wore my Honor Flight dog tags.

We stopped in Livermore on the way north to pick up my friend, Dee Coleman, who grew up in Laurens. Then on the way home, we stopped in Bode for that tenderloin I love so much. Except now the place will always be Big Joe-John's to me. Dana just couldn't get the right name in her mind.

On past visits, Dana has made stuff for her friends, so this time when we snuggled in at my sister's quilt shop, she made herself a bag. She calls it her library bag, and once she finishes the snaps and buttons, it really will look great.

Our five days of play may have seemed longer, even though they went past too fast, simply because we didn't spend much of them sleeping. Which is OK at the time, but it comes back to bite you.

Still, there is little as wonderful as hugging your daughter whenever you want to. I love those hugs. They keep my heart happy.

So long friends, until the next time when we're together.

Sandy Mickelson is the former lifestyle editor of The Messenger. She is retired. She may be reached at mcsalt@frontiernet.net

 
 

 

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