My grandma was an itty bitty thing. Measuring in at a mere 4'something", her wardrobe looked like that of a child with an obsession for pant suits. All 95lbs of her took great pride in her appearance, always wearing hand-tailored pieces with particular coordinating shoes and hairdos.
Soon after she died, I inherited all of her stuff (mink stoles, a monkey fur jacket, feathery pill box hats, tiny shoes with kitten heels, hand sequined flapper dresses, only to name a few of the garments I would never be able fit into). Each article is a testament to the care and detail that was given in an era that made things to last. I knew my 95lb days were long behind me, but I still could not bear to part with anything that reminded me of her and that magical generation. And so her memory continues to hang in the back of the closet alongside my disposable H&M wardrobe.
* * *
Summer is over, and the change of seasons has me cleaning, purging, and planning a yard sale of epic proportions. Digging through my closet this past weekend, I unearthed her memory again. And then it dawned on me...
...her tiny sparkly things may one day fit my tiny sparkly things.
1 comment:
beautiful!
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