Skinny Jeans for Seniors

My Take

DiVoran Lites

On Mondays I go to the Titusville Art League for what I call, “Inspiration Monday,” where four of us, or three, or two meet to inspire each other and to enjoy the blessing of friendship and company. We look after each other too.

Karen comes in first. She has a long and fascinating story to tell about why she’s late. She comes to our town for the winter and goes to Ohio for the summer. She has discovered black Gloria Vanderbilt jeans that fit like no jeans I’ve ever seen before in my life.

Bess came in with her trellis ribbon at the ready to crochet the most gorgeous, light-weight, three-strand necklaces you ever saw. She taught us how to do it and even supplied the ribbon.

Agnes didn’t come. She’s a retired nurse, who once had cancer. She now often looks after her, “young minister’s little wife,” because she now has the monster disease. Agnes is the fashion police and worries when I wear baggy pants, which I do a lot because praise God I’ve lost weight (on purpose).

I’m DiVoran. You know me. I’ve just published my first book, Sacred Spring, my painting buddies helped me paint the cover. We talk about everything and help each other and say outrageous things to make each other laugh.

Karen, Bess, and I went to Valentino’s for lunch. Bess and I had minestrone and Karen had chicken wings. We shared a basket of garlic bread with a small squabble about who would pay for the garlic bread. Each one wants to give something.

The restaurant was as dark as a bar but we didn’t have to see each other. We knew we all had white or gray hair and a wrinkle or two. Karen and I sat side by side with Bess facing us. When it came time to leave, my hand fell on a set of keys on the seat between us. Oh, I’m glad I felt those keys.

We went to Beall’s as usual because they have sales on Mondays. I didn’t stay long, but when as I left the store, I checked my keys and guess what, they weren’t mine, they were Karen’s. I rushed back into the store looking for white hair above the racks. At last I spotted her and strode over to the skinny jeans department to give her the keys. She grabbed me and hugged me. We both knew she or I or anyone would have been capable of losing the keys and having to launch a frantic search to find them. Friends look after each other sometimes, but there is one who is always taking care of his children.

“For thou art a gracious and merciful God.” Nehemiah 9:31

Tags: Artists, Friendship, Girlfriends, Senior Citizens, skinny jeans