Speaking of Remembrances
When my beloved Aunt Lillie died, I was shattered.
One of the things that helped was reminiscing about the richness she added to my life from the time of my earliest memories when I was a very small girl.
I wrote down a bunch of my memories, & several months later, when I got together with her daughters for some reason or other, I printed out copies of those little stories for each daughter.
It's something you can do for yourself or for a grieving friend or relative, it's easy, & it's very healing.
& the memory doesn't have to be a big thing, like the time your loved one gave you a zillion dollars, in fact it's the little, finely-detailed experiences from day-to-day life that make the best memories & the best stories.
Here's one of my stories, both so you can see how easy it is to do & so you can see why I loved my Aunt Lillie.
(sorry about the title, don't know how to get it centered to submit to gardenweb).
The Doll Dress
When I was a little girl, someone gave me one of those small hard plastic dolls, about 8" tall, with jointed shoulders, legs, & neck.
Their eyes opened and closed with an audible click,
& their impossibly long lower eyelashes were painted on.
They had mohair wigs, & their dresses were usually made of taffeta:
2 strips crisscrossed for the bodice, & the rest was gathered into a full ankle-length skirt, sometimes covered in lace.
They often had big bows in their hair.
I think those little dolls were originally designed to grace the tops of heart-shaped candy boxes or to be collected in glass cases on the dressing tables of teen-aged girls.
They certainly werenÂt designed for little girls to play with,
& their delicate dresses never lasted long.
I donÂt remember if my doll arrived in a worn-out dress or if she came to me au naturelle, but my Aunt Lillie crocheted her a beautiful dress from variegated purple crochet thread.
It had a full-ish skirt (school dress length like mine rather than ball gown length) & a pinafore-style top, like an apron in front with crisscrossed straps in the back, with tiny buttons fastening the straps to the bodice.
Try as I might, I couldnÂt get my fingers to work those buttons.
Aunt Lillie showed me how it was done.
"Just pull the top over her little head", she said, suiting action to word.
I loved that doll & her clicky eyes & her hand-crocheted purple dress, & I remember the gratitude I felt to Aunt Lillie for showing me how to change her dress.