‘Life Supports’ by Claire Lawrence

The music starts. Glenn Miller and his orchestra playing “A String of Pearls.” It’s too loud, but the hard-of-hearing crowd is lulled. A woman pulls out a hanky and waves it about, surrendering to the war tune. I knew this would be a trigger. Mine will be the 1980s song ‘Time After Time’ by Cyndi Lauper. Jared and I used to slow-dance to it in tight circles. When he proposed and I accepted, he hugged me and cried on my shoulder. Where did those dreamy people go? My eyes get glassy, and I pinch myself to keep it together.

The screen behind me lights up. I welcome all attending, recognizing one face, and she has Alzheimer’s. Her care aide is directing her attention to the photo behind me. It’s a thin crowd, half a dozen if I include the care aide. I called every number in Auntie’s worn-out address book. There were many dead rings.

I made the right decision to leave the boys with supper, a warm bottle, and unlimited screen time for the eldest. Besides, hubby was glued to some football championship. Why would he want to sit through this? It’s a relief they’re not here. I’m sure they would have survived the ceremony, but what if they listened? What if Jared understood?
 
I tap my index cards. Cookie dough is stuck to one corner. I flick it off, clear my throat, and begin.

“Rationing during the war freed women of steel-support corsets and rubber girdles. It changed how brassieres were designed and made. The longline coverage over the torso was shortened to an under-bust band. Pointy, unsized, full-coverage cups, sewn horizontally, were flimsy and unpadded. At the sternum, material was added, forcing the breasts to separate. In short, the newly designed undergarment became a war bra.” 

My opening remarks are met with watery eyes and denture play. A few old gals squawk. “What’d she say? Why’s she talking about bras? Seems a bit disrespectful.”

The unruliness of a few sets the others off. 

“Please bear with me,” I plead. “I know this is an unconventional beginning . . .”