from yesterday
Today we went to visit friends, a couple who are in their fifties.
When we arrived, the wife asked the girls if they like to play dress-up. She then said she had an outfit they could put on and play with. A gift to take home.
It was her wedding gown.
I was surprised. But she insisted. She wanted us to have it so the girls could play with it. The dress is 44 years old, still mostly white, with long lacy arms and layers of petticoats. It has its own little suitcase.
My friend says she’s cleaning up her possessions and needs to get rid of whatever she doesn’t need anymore. So I accepted her gift. I feel honored that she wanted to give it to us. It seems too special to be a toy. Too authentic for pretend play.
I don’t think the girls have seen my wedding dress. It’s in a box in our storage area, kept beneath a bunch of tape and plastic. A wedding dress is often a family heirloom, passed down from mother to daughter. I feel honored that my friend chose us to keep hers. I almost feel I should hang it in the closet – or in a museum – rather than let the girls stuff it into the carboard box that serves as their dress-up wardrobe.
Then again, the husband gave our family another gift: a cookie jar shaped like a fireman. Whenever the lid is opened, it declares “if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the cookie jar!” The girls love it, of course, but I’m regulating its activity…I’m not sure where they got this gift – from a friend, I think. The web site for this company reveals that they make many other talking items, including toilet shaped soap dispensers and banks (flush your money away!). I’m not sure what sounds to imagine these toys making… this fireman cookie jar is annoying enough….
but I’ll simply accept these gifts of friendship….
