Sunday, December 21, 2014

Christmas Eve 1962

Mommy came home and presented me with a doll that was to be mine....I took her at her word, after all I was only 5.  My sister was mine to care for, love, watch over.  I remember singing to her and sharing our room.  We were 5 years apart and mother felt she could hand over her care to me and I believed it was possible.  Many years, many experiences, our paths diverged.  When I moved back close to my parents, we barely knew each other any more.  She couldn't understand my behavior of acting as if nothing was wrong in our family.  Then came counseling and I talked about having no memories.  She realized I wasn't acting.  I didn't know anything was wrong with what happened in our shared childhood.  She remembered so vividly and I had only the vaguest clues and those were unreliable.  She tried to talk to me but I nearly passed out from the stress of attempting to remember.  She reached out to me and gave me all that love I gave to her right back to me.  She encouraged me, she had my back, she scolded me when I needed it, she shared her light when the darkness nearly engulfed me.  I don't know why God sent her to our family but I am so thankful He did.  My sister, my friend Happy Birthday to you.


mulderfan said...

Same here. I was eight and a half when I became a "mother". While other girls were playing with dolls, I cared for a real live baby boy who is now lost to me.
So happy you and your "doll" found each other again. It's a wonderful blessing you both deserve.
Love to both.

Ruth said...

Thank you mulderfan...I'm sorry for your loss. I'm thankful I recognized what my mother didn't that my "doll" was a beautiful person.