365 Days, Day 210

Man is a make-believe animal: he is never so truly himself as when he is acting a part (William Hazlitt)

It's all make believe, isn't it? (Marilyn Monroe)

Definition of make-believe: (māk'bĭ-lēv') Playful or fanciful pretense; imaginative intellectual play

Today was the memorial service of Bicé. Roarke and Gina had to be there to hold Ada's hand and comfort her. We could only be there in thought. Ariél made the comment that it didn’t feel “real” that Nonna had died. She said it would only be “real” when we went back to SA and Nonna is not there.

It is almost as though life become words, from this distance. We are like actors and actresses waiting in the wings for our cue. When we hear our cue we go onstage and play our part, one more time, with feeling.

Applause! Feeling of elation. Take your bow and go back stage. Take off your costume and mask. You are left with an empty hollowness. Until the next performance.

I felt sad today because I couldn’t be at the service to hold Ada’s hand. And to say an affectionate farewell. Somehow the memorial service does make things seem “real” and gives one a chance to mentally reflect on memories and say goodbye to your loved one. To see and to hear and do. To be there.

There is no playful or fanciful pretense in my words above. Just a moment, while I dig in my dressing up drawers and pull out the pink wig (Ariél’s) and the fairy wings (oh no! Lily has chewed them!), slip into high heels, sit back and sip, my glass of flavoured water…

Oh wait: red lippie.

Tadah!

I am back> It is I…!!