“Tiny spaces and small handbags make you look big. Now that’s rule number one. Make sure you are always photographed or spotted in an open space. Oh well, at this moment, there is no much control over that, I guess. Not an inch to breathe with full lung capacity in here. Hmmm… this casket is 84 inches long and 28 inches wide. Not exactly flattering. And that stubborn cowlick is probably making my grays stand out more than ever.

Diane, Tammy, Donna and Lori — they must all be here by now. Well, what do I have to worry about? I was the one who kept myself in pristine condition all my adolescent life, and carried those principles forward. They used to tease me, ‘Au naturel’. Yes, every bit of me. You know, I never wanted to be a statistic on the Housekeeping mag in the tally of 100 chemicals women slather on daily for upkeep.

I have always been a girly girl. My brothers ate everything, but I stopped at 12. Mom’s cookie-jar curfew, she always claimed, gave me these beach-ready thighs. Looking back, maybe I was taking diets too seriously? Oh well.

My best friend Linda gave me the best life lesson of all, a fuller face means fewer wrinkles. Genius. That is why you never caught me on those crazy yo-yo diets that all my friends would hop on and off. Sure, I managed to keep my obsession with the scale a big fat secret. The pecan toppings on my chocolate fudge ice cream? Those were never a secret.

Then there were those experiments. A small fancy for a haircut, a change in the appearance, glam makeover, yada yada yada. What happened? Hideous bangs that took a full year to grow out enough to tuck behind my ear. Imagine the worry of being photographed every single day for 365 days. Even worse when those pictures resurfaced at long-lost cousins’ houses. Ha ha ha.

Oh I have seen those reality shows, where grumpy, tired looking moms are snatched from malls by 30-minute style intervention TV crews. Suddenly they’re hot mamas, husbands drooling in fake disbelief on camera. Ah, the young and restless these days.

It’s amazing how Charlie remembers my favorite color. I had no idea he would be able to fix me up in my best dress. Just so apt for the occasion. He looks good today, he keeps switching between clean shaven and a goatee. Well, I like him anyway. He’s slimmer though. Talk about a diet fad for men. Or did I just not notice him these past few days?

Life’s come full circle. I shouldn’t worry, I’ve aged gracefully. Bright side, no more plucking eyebrows or chin hairs. Goodbye muffin tops.. OK, OK now Rose, find your inner peace. It’s show time.”

 

Charles walked towards the podium with the help of his stick and two great granddaughters. He paused, took a breath, then let the tears flow freely.

“In life and endearment, Rosemary was a prevailing source of energy for all who knew her. Today as she rests in this casket, speechless, her words actually still manage to deafen me. Like the one she spelled out for me on a paper napkin in Boston, one cold evening in 1953. She was at the bar with girlfriends. Prodded by my friends, I approached her and asked her if she cared for a dance.

Later she would spell out her name, C-A-L-L-M-E, along with her home number. That was how she made sure I never thought of another woman in my life. She was just magnanimous with her tenderness, as she was insolently funny. She never let insecurities overshadow her firm, loving upbringing of our five boys. She made sure she encouraged our children and everyone around her to nurture a deep sense of self-worth. She lived by what she believed in “Treating others well, it turns out, is the fastest path to a healthy self-esteem.”

For that she is the bravest, kindest and toughest woman I ever knew. To the love of my life, my partner of 59 years, and in memory from now on, this is for you, Rose.

Waiting to meet you on the other side.

Your Charlie.”

 

Rachana’s request: For every man and woman, let’s give ourselves a break. Let’s teach the younger generation it’s okay to live with a few physical imperfections. Let’s be gentle on our curves, and on others’ too. The practice of preemptive love, isn’t it? 

Picture Credit: Of course, Lee Jeffries doesn’t need an introduction in the area of human rights and homelessness. But I would like to credit him for his amazing portrait to show long-lasting love even among the dirt poor. As with the usage of any media on this site, if you don’t appreciate the “free visibility” aspect of this reproduction, it’s just a matter of asking me to remove the content and I would respectfully oblige.

 

 

NOTE: SHORT STORY Originally Written On: May 4, 2012

 

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About The Article Author:

Hi, I’m Rachana. Its been my dream for years to do something to consciously create a better future where every one of us is excited about our own potential. My challenge to everyone is that they aspire for their personal best and leave a legacy of their work through their contributions to mankind.

One more thing. In December of 2044, I hope to win the Nobel.

Will you join me on this journey of growth and transformation?
Namasté.

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