On Becoming a Fairy

When did fairies get to be such little sexpots? I am looking for an image of a fairy for this blog post and all the fairies coming up in my Google search have come-hither eyes and are wearing push-up bras and garter belts. I think one even had a whip. What happened to the little beings of light of my childhood wearing acorn caps and stardust dresses?

The reason I am looking for a nice picture of a fairy is that I am going to dress as one tonight for a Halloween party. I stopped by the costume shop on Highway 42 yesterday right after I picked up my father’s remains at the funeral home. It seemed very fitting to go buy some wings with Dad’s ashes in my car.

The wind was roaring down Garton Road where the funeral home is located, and all I could think as I carried the remarkably heavy box to the car was, “man, dad really wants to get the hell out of Dodge.”

Purchasing the wings went quickly and I came straight home with the ashes. I tucked the box safely under a coffee table. This table was until recently in my dad’s possession by his bedside. It is where he would put his reading glasses, his books, his medicine, his water cups. The irony of having his remains under this coffee table was not lost on me.

I left the house and met up with a friend for a martini. I was in need of a drink and some hand holding and the friend came through as he always does. Then, we parted ways and I needed some food. I drove around town for a while trying to figure out what I should eat. Chicken wings? Subway?

It dawned on me I ought to go to Stefano’s, where several of Georg’s art works have been gracing the walls of the restaurant since early August. It is not the kind of place one usually eats at alone. It is more of a special occasion place with friends and family. A birthday place. An anniversary place.

However, I had a book of poetry with me and so I had something to occupy myself in between bites. I had pasta in an aromatic green sauce (kale, arugula, veal, garlic) and a glass of red wine. For dessert, I had a piece of flourless chocolate cake with caramel and sea salt that was clearly the nourishment of fairies. I took home half of each dish and I will enjoy them later today.

The waiters and waitresses at Stefano’s were exceedingly kind. They knew I had come to have dinner with Georg. And so, maybe it was kind of an anniversary dinner, after all. Dad and I ate there several times over the summer and I will always remember those dinners fondly. Or, maybe it was a birthday dinner. Maybe it was the birth of me as a fairy. Hottie fairy? Light fairy? One and the same?