Being slender like Mom and standing a mere 5'7" in my bare feet, I fitright in, and as long as I didn't do something stupid, I figured I shouldbe fine. The next few weeks flew by like a dream. I had become used todoing my hair and makeup, and found that I was able to get dressedquickly in the mornings. I was just generally getting used to being agirl. My mannerisms improved, I had my hair styled and my nails done, andI no longer carried fear in my side pocket.I had been working there about a month and was sitting at my desk whenthe news came. Dad had been killed in an accident on the freeway. BothMom and I were devastated, but everyone was really supportive. I knewthat there was no way I could appear as a male for the funeral, so I worea black sheath dress and stood next to Mom as his casket was lowered intothe ground. A week later, when I returned to work, I had a new boss. Momhad urged me to continue at work, even though Dad was gone. I struggledwith it for a while, but I did as she. But down the hall from them, just a couple of doors, one heart is beating inan irregular rhythm. The end is near for Clem Wilson. Life is slowly ebbingfrom his 79-year-old body."Poor Mr. Wilson," the nurse says to the aide. "It just seems kind of sad tothink of him dying on Christmas." Yeah," the aide agrees. "But you know, he does seem at peace with it. Ithink he's ready to go."The nurse nodded. "And he doesn't have any immediate family. Lots of niecesand nephews, but no wife or children of his own. It's always hard on thefamily, when it happens on the holidays." Both women walked down the hall tosneak a peek at Wilson. For now, he seemed to be resting comfortably, afterthe extra morphine his doctor had ordered. But before leaving, the doctor hadmade it clear that it was only a matter of time.....December 4th, 1896The Wilson family home, Springfield, IllinoisEsther Wilson smiled down at her six year old son, Clement. He was excitedlyleafing through the Sears mail-order catalog. What.
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