As I've been working on my site, I ran across this old post. The funny thing is that I had not thought about the slight which I felt that evening in a long time, yet upon re-reading it I felt the anger and resentment from that remark all over again.

Funnier yet, I've thought about that event many times since then, but I remember a different moment.

Outside the dinner I encountered the wife of the distinguished professor. As I said, I used to babysit for their kids. When I encountered her the conversation went something like this:

"JoKeR!* Good to see you! How long as it been, 20 years?"

"Actually, closer to 40 years."

"No, you can't be 40 years old!"

"Actually, I'm closer to 50 than 40."

"Well I'm not!"

Remember, this woman is closer to my mother's age than mine. I have laughed over that exchange many times and on how it reflects our own vanity and denial of our aging. Yet, what I had felt compelled to write about that evening was the slight I felt had been given my father. Now, a couple of years later, I had more or less the forgotten the slight, only to find upon being reminded of it that I had not been able to forgive it.

I'm not sure what that says about me except that it is clear I still have some maturing to do.

*Obviously she did not call me JoKeR, but I'm pretending that I'm maintaining some degree of anonymity here. :-)