I love dolls. Not the plastic, mass manufactured dolls, but unique handmade knit or cloth dolls. Raggedy Ann was one of my favorites growing up. She still is.
I've written about my love of dolls before, but have never shared my most cherished doll. My Cabbage Patch doll. This was the last doll my Mom gave to me before she died. She has followed me everywhere since I got her. From state to state, city to city, house to house. No matter where my life has taken me, through good times, and bad she's been there. Since we moved to this house, she's been residing on a self in my closet. I smile whenever I see her, think of my mom and last Christmas she was alive. It's bittersweet.
You know as I sit and write this, I realize she doesn't have a name. Well, I'm sure she had a name when I first got her, but I can't remember it, and don't recall calling her anything but "my cabbage patch doll" How sad. I really need to name her. She deserves a name for always being there. A tangible piece of my childhood.
No comments:
Post a Comment