The morning at Dalton was nothing short of wonderful, but I wouldn't say it was easy. Why is it that the hardest and heaviest things we do in life are also the most memorable and rewarding? So, what did I do after this meaningful celebration of Dad's legacy? After hearing a wonderful panel of environmentalists speak about sustainability? No, I didn't rush home and switch out my energy-inefficient bulbs. I went to lunch with Mom and then shoe shopping. And then I went to Oscar Blandi to go a little more blonde-y.
Now Dad would never approve of this. Not on Earth Day. Not on any day. I hear his voice now: Maidy-Bunks Picnic (you've gotta love nicknames), don't mess with Mama Nature.
But even with his crackly voice echoing in my head, I marched right down Madison and right up those steps and right toward that swiveling chair and I let the genius man (Kyle White) work his magic, twisting my hair into tiny tin foils. And a little while later, I walked out, my hair and my mind a bit lighter. And as I hailed a taxi cab to take me home to my waiting baby girls and inefficient light bulbs, I was still thinking of Dad. And it occurred to me that wherever he is fly-fishing these days, he is looking down (or up, or sideways) at me, Daughter #3, with his blue eyes and philosophical fire and silly faux tresses, enjoying one of those big bold belly laughs I miss deeply.
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