datestampThursday, March 10, 2016


I remember playing house and wanting to be a Momma since I was little. From the days of playing with my baby dolls, and house with my brother, sisters, and cousins. I remember dressing up in Grandmas clothes and jewelry, walking around the house in her heels with my sister and our nylons sagging down our legs, to our ankles. Wearing her clip on earrings, putting her red lipstick on and wigs! Dressing up in Grandpas Navy uniform, and pretending to be out to sea...oh the days of being a kid!
 I especially remember loving my little baby dolls, and carrying them around, they were my treasures! I had this one baby doll that when you would pull the string on the back of it, it would cry. I remember pulling on that string and doing my best to comfort my little dolly. I loved her. I guess my Momma knew that she was my greatest treasure...because one day I decided to take an orange crayon and draw all over my Mommas treasure, her rock wall fireplace. The story is that she scrubbed and scrubbed that and it never did come out. Oh, did I get in trouble for that one! Little did I know that karma would be coming back to me soon. Around Christmas time I couldn't find my sweet dolly, but I found her on Christmas day when we went to Grandmas house for breakfast. We were sitting in the front room and I remember opening this present. It was wrapped so nicely, and I ripped through that paper, so excited! When I opened the lid, I was devastated! My beloved dolly was in that box, and she had marker drawn all over her face, her hair was ratted, and she had a bandage around her arm and leg. She looked like she'd been to hell and back. Oh, there was a boom of laughter and I can still hear my Momma and the whole room laughing. I guess my Uncle took my baby doll to the Dr. to get fixed, because the pull string was fading and not working so well (and because I colored all over the rock wall). I picked up my sweet doll and pulled the string and she started a shaking. I dropped her to the floor and ran outta that room sobbing about my baby doll being "fixed" by Uncle Noel. Boy, I didn't like him very much that day, but I grew to love him again. I learned my lesson the hard way to respect my Mommas things and not draw on her treasures!
 I found her not to long ago in the same little box she was delivered to me all those years ago, bandaged and everything. Inside was a little poem written by my Momma. I opened it, read the poem and laughed and laughed about it. My kids wanted to know what was so funny and I got to share with them the memories I had when I was younger. I think they were a little creeped out by how the doll looked! I did pick my dolly out of the box and hugged her anyway...
I guess I've been feeling nostalgic as of late. Reminiscing of people, and experiences. I'm just really grateful for memories, good or bad...they remind me to feel. They let me laugh till my stomach hurts, or cry till I can't cry anymore. I get to remember all the living I've got to do and it warms my heart and brings a smile to my face. I recognize that I am truly blessed. God has been good to me all these years.

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