My one of a kind designer dress held my body in green and red. The glass of wine was delicious. The entertainment was rather enjoyable, and the company was great. Instead of performing on a Saturday night in December, I did something outrageous; I attended an event as a guest and enjoyed myself. Something happened to me this evening.
The musician was a jazz pianist. As the chord progression rang familiar to me, the songs were easy to recognize. They were songs that my father enjoyed playing himself. The vocalist began singing, and it was obvious that her repertoire spoke to yesteryear. The honorees for the evening were names that I heard before from my father’s mouth. Before I knew it, the sight of him flailing about in the coma resurfaced. The familiar faces of the people whom were complete strangers milled all around. It was like being in a world that was not far from the one person that will never appear again. A twinge of sadness gripped me and just as quickly, it was brushed away. It was an interesting moment to experience during a gala affair.