The Black Skirt

You know how "they" say you should have either a little black dress or at least a black skirt--or both? I didn't have either.

In January I happened to be shopping and found a great deal on a black skirt that fit very nicely. Having had to attend the funeral of a dear friend's father in December and not having had anything to wear that seemed appropriate, I bought the skirt.

In fact, I have attended many funerals in something other than black or in an outfit that wasn't my first choice because I refused to buy a black dress or skirt. In essence I was declaring my outrage against death.

I bought the skirt.

And now I must wear it.

Already.

And I really don't want to.

I would give anything not to have to wear it.

One of my very favorite people, my uncle Dan, died Friday morning. His daughter is my closest cousin, Green3.

While I was growing up, Auntie M and Uncle Dan were an integral part of my life. The weeks we spent in Iowa were spent shuttling between their house and my grandparent's farm. Their kids--my cousins--were my closest cousins. Green3 was my pen-pal and we still e-mail each other several times a week.

As an adult Auntie M and Uncle Dan opened their house to me and my family any time we visited Iowa--which was as often as we could. Because they live on a lake, my children wanted to be in the boat as much as possible. Uncle Dan never said he couldn't drive the boat. If there was anything we wanted or needed, he jumped up and had it done.

He was young--55. He was going to retire next year.

I took it for granted he would be here for a very long while. Although I'm terribly sad, it's nothing compared to what his family is going through right now. My heart is breaking for me, but it's breaking even more for those I love who have lost a husband and a father.

I'm not going to be around for a while. Maybe a very long while.