In Honour of Barbie

Downsizing for a new beginning, Sandy told herself again. Repeating it had not made it the belief reality. Rather it seemed downsizing meant stress, tears and backbreaking pain. Shuffling another full box of stuff towards the attic door, she shook her head, another box of once treasure now old and broken items no longer wanted. Wincing she straightened up the best she could under the low ceiling and rafters, the pain was getting almost too much to bear, especially during the night, trying to sleep on the old mattress. ‘My poor back,’ Sandy thought hoping it would not slip out or have a flare up, in either case sorting through the boxes would stop, time lost. The list of problems that could arise from the back pain would be devastating.

Pat could not help and was staying with their only child, Stacy. His knee had given out and had left him to walk with a walker while waiting for a knee replacement surgery. The waiting numbers had to have been extremely high as he was still waiting at six months on the waiting list. Twenty-five years of marriage where he was her helpmate had turned into her running the show. Money was low and repair bills on the house were piling up, downsizing to an one level home was the option. No sooner had they put the house on the market, it had sold, and the new owners were taking over in two weeks.

Grabbing another box mark “Stacy”, Sandy carefully lifted it to sit on the old dining table stored with twenty-five years of forgotten treasures. 

Using an old shirt to wipe away the dust, she opened it up. Inside the box filled with her memories, conflict on if these things should be kept knowing Stacy was told she could not have her own children and memories of playtime with her. Gulping down the flood of tears choking her, Sandy lifted a pink and blue sun dress out remembering the last day she wore it. It had been a fight to tug it off over her head, seemingly glued to her but it had been a favourite so it had been put away for safekeeping, maybe one day for her child but the time would not come. Next was a handmade wooden doll chair Pat had crafted when Stacy was eight. This was a keeper for sure, it could work as an ornament to place a small plant pot atop the seat.  Placing the chair on the small to keep pile, she continued to shift through the box.  Hundreds of memory clips flashed through her mind's eye of time spent playing with one another with each item, of her daughter’s friends visiting Stacy; the laughter that filled the house. This box could be donated to the new play centre that had recently opened in town, some of these toys could pass as collectors. Softly laughing Sandy placed the box at the top of the stairs then moved on to the next box of Stacy’s. After sifting through three more she lifted the last one atop the table and dusted it off expecting memories of Stacy 's childhood to fill her, Sandy gasped when she opened it up.

On top lay a doll that was created in the late 50s or early 60s, her black hair nearly gone at the top of her head and very thin in the back, the curled bangs pressed flat on her forehead. Touching the hair gently, it came to Sandy bright as it had been this day. 

The day she had got it was a week after her 7th birthday and her mom had drug her to a garage sale across town. She had not wanted to go because garage sales were super boring and tiring. But Sandy’s mom said she was still too young to stay home alone. Following behind her mom tapping pebbles away with her toes, watching them roll under a table laden with stuff, she collided with her mom’s back as her mom stopped suddenly as she often did at these things.

“Sorry, Mom,” she had mumbled.

“What about this?” her mom's favourite phrase when visiting the sales. She looked up expecting to see a plate or shirt, but it wasn't.

Eyes so blue and lips so red, the most beautiful doll gazed back at Sandy. excitement had her jumping on tippy toes and clapping her hands silently. “Oh please, please, Mom.”

“I will check on the price first, but I think this will be an extra gift for you.” Her mom smiled and kissed her forehead.

 “Oh Mom. I miss you!” Sandy whispered; a warm tear trickled down her cheek.

At the oddest moments the emotions came to the surface, the loss of her mom felt fresh. Her mom had been gone ten years but some days the pain ran so strong it felt like yesterday. Hugging the doll itself as if she could pass the hug forward to her mom in heaven.

Another hug and another time came to Sandy’s memory. A friend had been visiting Stacy and she had let her friend play with the special doll and the eight-year-old had given Stacy and Sandy a big hug, thanking them. As the friend left Stacey turned to her mom and gave her a hug and kiss too. 

The next day Sandy had time to play with Stacy after school and they had sat and played until Pat had come home at supper time. The hours spent were wonderful and so much fun, knowing that both of them had as much fun as the other. Giggling they had went to the kitchen and the three of them made supper together. It had been such a good day they had decided to keep spending a day together at least once a month until Stacy had grown out of play, but they had kept making dinners together until she had gone away to college.  Now married she had her parents over for dinner once a month.

Holding the doll, Sandy decided to call it a day and ascended the stairs. She glimpsed the evening sky, aching body and a warm heart she gazed at the beautiful antique Barbie, and felt fulfilled. Memories of years spent together that were partly brought on because of this Barbie doll, she would hold a place of honour in their new home.