It’s a brand new day and most of the pain is gone, replaced by a general feeling of sluggishness and sadness.  I am struck at how strange it is that my moods change even when my circumstances have not.  I have the same wonderful things  to be grateful for, but I’m finding it hard not to dissolve into tears.  The waiting room at the cancer center is full this morning and I am reminded of the island of broken toys. It wasn’t long ago that I didn’t know this place existed and now it is a huge part of my life. 

Despite my blues, I am struck how amazing the staff is…buzzing around with smiles on their faces as they tend to each individual with care and concern. Christmas music plays over the speakers…one of the nurses shared a picture of her new Jammies from her boyfriend.

They feature the cancer ribbons in all colors. I didn’t know there were different colors for different kinds of cancer.  Colon cancer is blue by the way. I am part of a club I never wanted to join 🥴

After arriving home and still feeling sluggish , I asked Hans to bring me the slightest little bit of RSO. He appeared seconds later, with a big dollop of peanut butter on a spoon and the tiniest, tiniest little bit of RSO.  Within an hour , my spirits were lifted. It has been a quite pleasant afternoon.

My sister came over and somehow we got back on the subject of my dad. While I could readily see that my mom was a do-gooder, my memories didn’t confirm that dad was. Was Dad

 a do-gooder? I asked Judith.  She  smiled.

Here is what she said…….

Dad was a big-time do-gooder. After retiring from the army, dad set up his own law practice.  Because he spoke fluent Spanish, he had many bilingual clients. Many of said clients were tradesmen, and knowing that money was tight for them, dad would barter his services. 

Now the only problem with this arrangement was that many of the clients that dad was defending were being sued for incompetency.   You would have thought that dad would factor that into his decision making….but no!  

So , you guessed it 98% of the projects that Dad bartered for legal fees were disasters.  My favorite one has got to be the “great upholstery fiasco”.   It all began with a sad loveseat that our dog Bagel the beagle was rather too fond of. The upholstery was scratched and here and there were small holes. Feeling particularly generous one day, dad suggested to mom that he barter his legal fees with his client who did upholstery.  Even though my mom knew enough about the reputation of dad’s clients that she  referred to them as  “Irving’s clients” she agreed to the reupholstery plan.

Fast forward six weeks and we are excited to get our loveseat back. Apparently it took so long because the upholsterer ran out of material. But no worries , he just used a totally different kind of material for the remaining half. 

Of course, all his barters weren’t disasters. We all loved the “Flan lady” and every December the flan lady would bring us a huge homemade flan.  

I really enjoyed sharing that memory with Judith. Her recollections as my older sister filled in a lot of holes that I didn’t even know existed. If I was to start a new list of things that are important for our mental health and well-being. I think it might begin with sharing Nice memories.