The New Black

January 17, 2012

Ok – this is funny – but it’s not. About three weeks ago I cam across a dress of mine and thought to myself “Oh! my funeral dress – wondered where that went.” Now, this once lovely black dress was never purchased for a funeral – I bought it after losing my baby weight (second time ’round) – it had wonderful princess seams which means it gave me the shape I had been craving after months of being a convex lump for about a year. I felt sexy and sweet in it, all at the same time. Then a couple of years later, my father-in-law sadly died, most unexpectedly. I needed a dress for the funeral – my first since being a small child – so I grabbed my black dress. Two years later, another funeral – out came the dress….and it has made repeated appearances, particularly in the last 5 or 6 years as relatives and friends’ parents age….as I age.

Then, right after New Year’s- my mother’s friend passed away – another funeral. It seemed ironic that I had come across that dress after thankfully not needing it for some time. So, an hour before the funeral, I go upstairs to change into my dress. My dress! Where is my dress? Hangers fly out of closets, clothes are flung out of laundry baskets, closets are emptied. No dress – anywhere.

I move on to black skirts – skirts I didn’t even know I owned. The floor length straight skirt that is way too big now that I’ve lost weight, so big that it hangs around my crotch like a teenage boy. Then the  mid-length skirt that was purchased in my younger, slimmer years that I still can’t  fit back into. I am panicking. We are going to be late and if there is one thing you don’t want to do – it’s to rush the casket up the church aisle! Switching the search to tights/pantyhose, I surprisingly stumble onto the dress…Yay! But oh no…oh dear…although it still fit, and at times like this is strangely beautiful  – it has faded somewhat and is in desperate need of  lint brush – and the good lint brush has been exhausted by my university aged son. Fine – Dollar Store lint brush it is – my  husband furiously runs it over my body in our mad attempt to get out and get there on time. Ok – coats on -jump  in car and hit the gas.

We arrive at the funeral home – people are milling about quietly (well, of course they are – where do I think I am?). I find my friend and hold her close. Of course no one is looking at my seemingly charcoal dress…we are all there for her – for her family. Before going into the chapel I take a look around at those who have gathered and what I noticed is that there was an absence of black (and not just because people are wearing faded, linty outfits like mine). In fact, one of the departed woman’s friends is an elderly lady from her church and she is wearing fuchsia, hot pink…and all I could think is – Good on you, my dear lady! For a life is meant to be celebrated…..remembered, cherished and celebrated. And celebration means colour.

Colour, I believe, is the new black.


One Response to “The New Black”

  1. Nicole Keefler Says:

    I LOVE reading your stories!!!!

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