Friday I met my Dad's wife at the eye doctor. My Dad has a nasty eye infection. Apparently the first doctor he saw misdiagnosed him. This time, we brought him to my eye doctor (who also happens to be my mother-in-law's husband.) (He is the salt of the earth)
We spent about 5X as long in the waiting room as we did in the exam room, but this is the world of doctors! This gave my Dad plenty of opportunities to turn and look at me and ask, "Who are you?"
This hardly registers with me anymore. Without missing a beat, I reply, "Tammy, your daughter."
Oh yeah, that's right, he says.
To make me feel better, his wife of 30+ years then turns to him and says, "And who am I?"
I dunno, he says.
"Janie, your wife."
Oh yeah, he replies again.
He is more concerned about the identity of the man depicted in an ad on the wall than me.
Who is that guy? He doesn't like me!
Dad, that's just an ad. It's not anyone at all.
Oh, OK. Who are you?
It's a little ironic that my relationship with my Dad has turned full circle. It seems I am back to being invisible again, just as I often felt as a child. But with passing years comes maturity and fortitude. It doesn't bother me now, my state of invisibility.
It's all a little surprising, really.