Bittersweet by J-Dub
Christmas in September. Why the hell not? 2020 has been that kind of year.


The above doll was part of my history. The Santa suit was actually worn by my brother in December of 1963. One year later I wore it. After I outgrew it, the suit became part of the clothes box I kept full of outfits to dress up my dollies.
After my mom died and I had my breakdown, I thought I threw this doll in the trash. In July, while conducting my Swedish Death Clean, I found out that B had rescued her for me all those years ago. . Awwww super sweet. Yeah I know, he’s a keeper.
See how I painted her nails with my own polish. Candy apple red. I was a girly girl many moons ago. This is proof.
Mom was very sick when Lulu was born. She had not yet been diagnosed but we knew something wasn’t right. There were a few things she insisted on doing despite her immense pain. One of those things was taking a picture of Lulu in the Santa Suit.
My parents were out of town at my Uncle Martin’s funeral on the day Lulu was born. One week later when they got back home, she insisted daddy drive her to our house almost immediately. This request was made despite having just spent hours on the road, hurting all the way. “Tomorrow is soon enough Theresa. We have Mass at 5:00” daddy told her. To which she replied “We just buried Martin. Tomorrow is not guaranteed!” And sure enough, four weeks later, my mom passed away.
Skipping church was a big deal. In all their years together, come hell or high water, Sundays were reserved for Mass attendance. Even when you spent hours on the road and had to go to “sinner’s service” on a Sunday evening. Mom was on a mission to get that picture. Tradition!
They didn’t stay long. Enough to meet sweet baby girl. To snap that picture. And to give us the musical angel figurine for Lulu’s baptism. Mom’s sense of urgency was palpable. Like she knew her time on this Earth was coming to an end. She wanted to make sure Lulu got something special from her Gran. I’ll carry the memory of that day in my mind forever.
As always, more to come.
What an endearing story. Your mom knew and bless her for her persuasive ways. π
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Iβm really glad youβre hubby rescued the doll. Sheβs a very symbolic recognition of you that down the road your daughter will treasure.π
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Yes I’m glad too. Was quite surprised.
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What a bittersweet but extremely beautiful memory and keepsake, Janet.
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That’s a sweet memory. Nice of B to rescue that.
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Yep B is my hero lol π
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A bitter sweet remembrance Jill. Moms always know, as I’m sure you’ve discovered!
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Very kind Peter. I wish I knew. Some days I think I figured it out then something changes.
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Touching remembrance. So good of your hubby to keep it for you. Cute little outfit too. I felt the love.
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Yep he’s a keeper π
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What a touching story, Jilly. Moms have a sixth sense I think. My mom never got to meet any of her grandchildren. Sending you lots of love. β€οΈ
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Thanks Maggie.
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This is beautiful be Jilly, Mum’s are a determined breed and always know when to be insistent.π
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Very true
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πππ
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