Finding the inner Dorothy

I first met my friend in Boston in the late 70s. My then housemate and I were stoop sitting when a truck pulled up and a couple began unloading case after case after case of books. Anyone with that many books were people I wanted to know.

A long friendship followed. Our kids grew up. We moved to Africa, Europe and back to the US and back to Europe. We ended up owning two condos in the same building.

Together we bought a house in Southern France and then sold it.

We travelled once in car so densely packed with two Japanese chins and a cat, that to get out to stretch our legs the driver had to unpack the passenger.

Without her I would have taken a much longer time to come to grips with life-long problems with my mother as my mother was dying.

She was, is and will be a friend.

However, of all that we've shared I never expected to help turn her as a woman in her later 70s into the teenage Dorothy of the Wizard of Oz.

There was a reason: Her gospel group was having its end-of-year performance and she was to sing "Over the Rainbow." The singers were all performing songs from musicals throughout the 20th century.

A dress was loaned, hair was dyed and yarn braids were attached. Enough hair spray was applied that return to normal may take many shampooings?

Voilà...we discovered her inner Dorothy. July Garland would have been proud of my friend's performance.