My father has been requesting to have my mother's bathroom drawers emptied. I have been avoiding this activity as it seemed as if this might be the final act I would be performing with her. She gave her jewelry to her daughter's and daughter's in law month's before. Her pearls to one new grandchild that most likely will not remember her except through story and photo. It was most difficult to pilfer through her things again. We never allowed ourselves to pilfer while growing up. We learned respect for privacy from her. My two sisters helped clean her closet out. Safety in numbers. We had no arguments ,this one wanted that and the other wanted something else. These drawers were the potions, lotions and perfumes that she used everyday. These items tell the most personal story. What she liked to smell, touch and feel. How age had affected her choices or not. She had not worn mascara for years for it irritated her eyes so none was found. Her eyes were an incredible blue color so the loss had little affect on how beautiful and intense her eyes were. There was other make up some worn little, some worn out with use. The colors in her eye palette were neutral. Lipsticks in bright, happy colors. The lipstick choices giving away her personality, vivid and bold. Old grooming tools, out of date curling irons, manicure kits given to her some birthday or Christmas long ago. Bottles of unused perfume. No empty bottles of Chanel #5 as it was her favorite and she enjoyed using that. Extra tooth brushes always kept for some unexpected guest's dental hygiene. A green bag with a brush full of her beautiful white hair tucked in the back of the drawer as if hidden in shame. She hated losing her hair the most as it was that incredible shade of pure white so few have. The cleansers, bandages and tape that had taken her dignity from her. Empty bottles of pain killers, a reminder of her last days. I miss her so much today.
The picture is stunning, and I got chill bumps reading this post; brought tears to my eyes. Sally was one of the most vibrant women I have ever known. I think about her almost daily. I had just finished picking out my mother's birthday present before I read this. Superb job with the blog.
ReplyDeleteGood job, Rebecca. You captured her beautifully and your emotions wonderfully, showing that we never really leave this world since our vestiges remain.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this with me Rebecca. The last time I saw Sassy, although sick, she was still vibrant. Red lipstick and colorful muu-muu..still smiling. I like my memories of her and your memories as well.
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ReplyDeleteIt is evident how you contemplated every item you touched, and how you really knew and loved her. I know this was hard, but it is wonderfully written.
ReplyDeleteI know the experience of going through a mother's vanity. I did that 4 years ago. I still have a bottle of her perfume, an old lipstick brush and and eyebrow pencil of hers. It's funny the things we hold on to. But whenever I'm really missing her, I spray some of the perfume on me...not too much, it's Fidji by Guy Laroche and I don't think it's made anymore.
ReplyDeleteRebecca, after reading this blog, I have tears running down my face. I, too, have been through that same drawer, and I still smell the Channel #5 in her bathroom. There's not a Thursday that passes that I don't miss Sassy and our conversations. She was a precious lady to me. I pray Randi Leigh shares those same thoughts about me someday. Your mother left a beautiful legacy through her daughters.
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