Grandma had The Livingroom. No one was suppose to go in there unless it was Christmas Day. But Grandma let you go in The Livingroom if you needed to lie down or if you wanted to do something quiet or if you wanted to follow her around while she watered the plants.
There were two huge windows in the room; wood crossing wood and morning sunlight pushing through.
Grandma would let me play with her Glass Dolls.
I would line them up on the thick carpet. And play.
My favorite was a girl with blushing cheeks, holding her herself in a green gowned curtsy.
I thought she was Cinderella.
So, many years later, Aunt Sue said something about the Royal Doultons and my Grandmother's death.
My Grandma laughed.
I piped up, "Oh, I do not want one of those. I want the green girl."
Grandma replied, "Which one?"
Then she got up and went into The Livingroom.
She came back out holding her.
"This one?"
"Yeah," I said and smiled.
"Your Mother and Aunt Debbie got this for me when they were little," she replied, and then she went to put green girl away.
So, a few months later, Aunt Debbie was smiling.
"Oh, we were just little then. I was eight. We bought her at Art in the Park in Dover. She cost us 50 cents each."
Aunt Debbie smiled some more; and I could see them. I could see my aunt and my mother with ribbons in their hair; two little girls in purple and yellow dresses, hand in hand and running through the vendors and the their arts; and the trees and the sunlight that filter through them. I could see the dirt smudged deep into the creases of their otherwise pink hands, as they counted out the change to pay for the green girl. I could see the light of love and excitement in their eyes.
Just for one moment; I could feel it all.
There were two huge windows in the room; wood crossing wood and morning sunlight pushing through.
Grandma would let me play with her Glass Dolls.
I would line them up on the thick carpet. And play.
My favorite was a girl with blushing cheeks, holding her herself in a green gowned curtsy.
I thought she was Cinderella.
So, many years later, Aunt Sue said something about the Royal Doultons and my Grandmother's death.
My Grandma laughed.
I piped up, "Oh, I do not want one of those. I want the green girl."
Grandma replied, "Which one?"
Then she got up and went into The Livingroom.
She came back out holding her.
"This one?"
"Yeah," I said and smiled.
"Your Mother and Aunt Debbie got this for me when they were little," she replied, and then she went to put green girl away.
So, a few months later, Aunt Debbie was smiling.
"Oh, we were just little then. I was eight. We bought her at Art in the Park in Dover. She cost us 50 cents each."
Aunt Debbie smiled some more; and I could see them. I could see my aunt and my mother with ribbons in their hair; two little girls in purple and yellow dresses, hand in hand and running through the vendors and the their arts; and the trees and the sunlight that filter through them. I could see the dirt smudged deep into the creases of their otherwise pink hands, as they counted out the change to pay for the green girl. I could see the light of love and excitement in their eyes.
Just for one moment; I could feel it all.
Comments
Hope all is good.
Q
change "grandmother" to "aunt stevie," "livingroom" to "whole entire house," and "dolls" to "spoons from around the world" and you have the story of any event ever held at my uncle's in arkansas.
thanks for the shout out, i like your blog, too!