Monkey Shines

I have two sisters (Susan and Karen) and two brothers (John and George). I was the second born, arriving a year after Susan – actually, one year, twenty seven days, four hours and ten minutes. Karen was born four years later, and then came John two years after Karen. Mom and Dad waited ten years to surprise us with George. Actually, I think George surprised all of us, but that’s another story.

Growing up, my sister, Karen, was the “good” one in the family. Susan and I were constantly compared to the Katzenjammer kids and the two boys were .. well, they were boys. Karen was beautiful – long hair, huge eyes and a shy smile.

Karen went to college right after high school. She started school up in Boulder, Colorado, then came back to Texas and went to Texas Women’s. While she was attending TWU, she worked full time at a donut shop where she met Fara. Karen and Fara were married while they both were going to college. A couple of years later, along came their daughter Melody.

Times were not easy for Karen and Fara. They were both attending college, working full time, living in a tiny apartment and caring for a new baby. Neither got much sleep. Karen never complained to any of us. She was, as usual, plugging away, accomplishing big things a step at a time.

When we were kids, all three girls took ballet lessons. Karen stayed with it the longest, eventually dancing en pointe. In college, she elected to take a dance class to fulfill her physical education requirement. Her final assignment was to choreograph a dance, then perform it for the class. Life got in the way and suddenly it was the night before the final and she had not even begun the assignment. She pushed the coffee table out of the way, grabbed some music and tried to put some moves together.

The next day, it was time to perform. The stage was much larger than she had imagined – and much, much larger than the area she had considered when she put her dance together the previous night. Finally, it was her turn. The teacher called her up. She queued up her music, went to center stage and prepared to dance. Just as the music started, the teacher asked her the name of her dance.

“The name?”

She was stumped. She hadn’t even considered a name. Suddenly, from somewhere inside her, it came to her.

“Kikkoman,” she blurted out, “My dance is called ‘Kikkoman’.”

She queued up the music once again, tried to regain her composure and started dancing. She threw in some extra moves to use up more floor space. At some point, she realized that the stage was way too big, her dance was way too small and what the hell was “Kikkoman”? It suddenly struck her as so funny she started laughing. It’s hard to dance and laugh at the same time. Finally, mercifully, the music ended and she ran from the stage. Miraculously, to her, she passed the final.

A couple of years later, one more daughter, Natalie was born. Karen eventually got her degree in microbiology. Fara got his degree in civil engineering. They moved from the tiny apartment to a tiny house. Karen started working for the city of Lewisville. Fara worked for the city of Denton. Good jobs, both, but it was not enough. They both started working on their master’s degrees.

It took a few years. In the mean time, their son, Cameron, was born. Three children, a larger house, full time jobs, and still with the studies. Finally, it was over. Fara and Karen both passed all the requirements to be awarded their master’s degrees

A few days before the ceremony, a box arrived containing the gowns they were to wear. They set it aside. They had dinner, got the kids off to bed, then opened the box. Karen tried on her gown. Fara tried on his. They both climbed on the coffee table and began to dance. They danced across the living room. They danced up the stairs. They danced into their kids’ rooms. They danced back down the stairs and through the kitchen. They danced all over the house.

I wasn’t there, but in my mind’s eye, I can see them – two hard-working people who found they could accomplish big things by focussing on the goal. I am very proud of them.

Donna