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Easter Sun-Dee, Part One

Way too cute not to lead this Sun-Dee with this pic!

By…Need You Ask?

A couple of years ago I posted my “bucket list” items–things I wanted to do dressed. Both posts are in the archives towards the back, if you want to have a look.  Editorial comment: they will be Dee-run soon.

One was attending an Easter service dressed. This past Easter Sun-Dee was my chance to tick it off my list. My willing companion was my good friend Michelle, frequent guest star in these ramblings. She’s a very strong believer of the Catholic faith, and I’m not (of any faith), although I have met a number of people who are certainly doing God’s work here on earth.  

I texted Michelle a few days before Easter, asking if she was available, and if she would I would be happy to go with her. She quickly agreed, and suggested a 6:30 AM (ugh) sunrise service at a local outdoor amphitheater. That presented a few problems. First, while my wife was still in Australia (she stays for a couple months after I return to the US to do things with friends and family), our adult son, who works nights and sleeps day, lives with us. That made dressing at home a bit of an issue (he doesn’t know I dress, or at least I haven’t TOLD him). We agreed  I’d be at Michelle’s at 5:45 AM to get ready, to have time to finish getting ready and get to the service. That meant a 5:00 AM wake-up call, because becoming Dee is usually not a quick process.

The other main complication was I had arrived back in the US the Wednesday before, and as Melbourne is 16 hours ahead, I was suffering a significant case of jet lag. My body clock doesn’t want to go to sleep until 2 or 3 AM.Easter eve was no different; I finally managed to fall asleep around 2, so the 5 AM alarm was a rude awakening after only a three hour sleep.

Fortunately I had THE perfect dress to wear–one given to me several years ago by Michelle. It was a favorite of hers–and she looked great in it, but she looks great in everything–but some items in her wardrobe dredge up some negative memories. When that happens, she repurposes them, and gives them to me (Hand-Dee-Downs). She loves seeing me wearing her former clothes, and I like wearing them when I’m with her (and there is something special about wearing something that used to be owned by someone who is freaking gorgeous).

The dress, a rose colored Calvin Klein dress, size 6! (I’m happy if I can squeeze into a 12), needed some fixing up when Michelle gifted it to me. I took it to a tailor to fix the hem, followed by a trip to the dry cleaners. Both were done about two years ago, but I never had the right opportunity to wear it. I wanted to wear it for an outing with Michelle, and specially Easter morning. This was my perfect opportunity. 

Up at 5, I managed a quick shave and shower. I did most my makeup, leaving lipstick for later and changing into my dress at Michelle’s. I had stowed the dress, heels, wig, purse, and other items I needed in my car the afternoon before. I was ready to depart when I heard my son enter our other bathroom, which is near our bedroom. Quickly I opened out bedroom door, saw the other bathroom door was closed and the light was on, and bolted down the hallway towards the entrance to our garage. I wasn’t exactly Usian Bolt, but I wasn’t wasting time either.

I arrived at Michelle’s a little after 5:45. She had previously teased me a bit that I tend to be late, because getting ready always takes me longer than I expect, but this morning I did better than usual. We chatted for a bit while I put on my finishing touches; change into the dress, put on my heels, bracelets, necklace and earrings, and finally lipstick, while Michelle finished dressing too . We managed to leave around 6:15 for the twenty minute drive to The Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows, which is located on the bluffs of the Mississippi River, a few miles outside of my hometown. We arrived a few minutes later than the scheduled start, but the services didn’t start promptly at 6:30 either. We easily found seats, as there were probably three or four hundred attendees, but with the large number of seats there were plenty of seats available.

The weather was a bit chilly, a little below 60, but the sun was rising, the sky was blue, dotted with puffy white clouds, a very nice morning for outdoor services. While I am not the religious type, hearing the birds chirp, watching them fly overhead, and seeing nature change from winter to spring made a very nice setting. In the words of Cat Stevens, morning had indeed broken like the first morning. 

Michelle was happy to be there. She had always wanted to go to a sunrise service, but could never talk her daughters into getting up that early to go. She was happy to have me along, and I was happy to be supporting her. The service was pleasant, a typical Catholic Mass. Several of the hymns were favorites of Michelle’s. The homily by the priest was about the women who were to anoint Jesus on Easter morning, and how they were willing to risk their lives to fulfill their duties, while the male disciples were too fearful to act. He spoke about the women having the power to roll the stone away from Jesus’s tomb, and segued into the challenges of people in day to day life, trying to roll their own stones away. I thought about the strong woman sitting next to me, and how many stones she has had to roll away, building her salon business and managing her life, and hoping she was hearing the same message I was.  

I was also struck by the thought about many in the transgender or crossdressing community, who can’t seem to find the power to roll the stone away from the door of THEIR tombs. The stones that keep them from doing, in far too many cases, what they really want to do–to get out and experience the public while dressed. I know there are crossdressers who only dress in private, and those who don’t wish to violate the agreement with their significant others. But I’m sure there are many more who would like to get dressed and go out, but are too worried to make that happen. 

But as the priest said, sometimes we need to find the power to unlock the doors that keep us locked in, the stones that block our tombs.

After the services, we found a cafe in downtown St. Louis called the Egg where we had breakfast. I don’t do coffee or tea, nor usually do I have alcohol on Sun-Dee mornings at 9:30 AM, but somehow I managed two margaritas. Michelle and I ate and talked and caught up on everything that happened in the ten weeks while I was down under. Also, to my amusement, when we were walking in, the waiter asked Michelle if she was here for Easter breakfast with her mom. Michelle didn’t hear it, but I did, and I was amused–and I’d be thrilled to have a daughter as beautiful as Michelle, both inside and out.

Thanks “Mom”! You are a shining example and this was one of your best.


3 Responses

  1. Dee,
    Some little words can mean so much , I really get your thoughts on being considered Michelle’s mom .

    It’s a standing Joke now with P*** who I often walk with in the mornings with his dog , some people meeting us for the first time think I’m his wife . I had to drop into his home recently , his wife knows the whole story and is perfectly OK with it , so jokingly I said you do realise your husband is a bigamist , she laughed then said in that case would you like to take his socks to wash .

    On an another occasion I was in my front garden when a young Irish guy looking for odd jobs stopped to ask if I wanted my drive pressure washing , he quoted a stupid price of £300.00 , then looked me up and down and asked if I had a boyfriend . He kept haggling finally bringing the price down to £80.00 and everytime asked me the same question , by then I’d had enough , I told him not to be so cheeky as I was certainly old enough to be his mother and possibly even his grandmother . Eventually I offered him a deal of £50.00 and my phone number , with that he burnt rubber and left sharply !

    Choice of names can be tricky at times , when I go out wih my daughter and granddaughter , she still calls me dad and grandpa to her daughter , it does get some raised eyebrows at check out desks .

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