In church on Sunday I saw a woman with a mink hat and right away it triggered a flashback of a memory of long-ago that I had forgotten about, or so I’d thought, a memory of Babushka, my grandmother, and her mink hats. I remember when I was a kid back in the 1970’s my grandmother, who I called Babushka, had a few mink hats; I think she had 3 but I can’t be exact, but I know more than 2. I remember them being the “Pill-box” style which was popular at the time and I remember her letting me try them on, along with her jewellery, and I remember that she also had a mink coat,too, and a mink cape which she let me try on as well, and I’d parade around in front of the mirror and I’d feel so grand and so sophisticated, like a princess. Seeing that lady in church wearing the mink hat in that same light blonde colour brought me right back to my childhood, standing there trying on Babushka‘s mink hats, pretending to be a Grand Dame, while inventing stories in my head about my whirlwind, fabulous, extravagant, opulent life, dancing with handsome princes and dining with the Queen.
Babushka was a woman ahead of her time,too; she had not only a job before most women worked outside of the home, but she had a career; she was a buyer for a department store and even was responsible for a few pages in the catalogue, the women’s fashions,and regularly went to France, Switzerland,and Italy to get a heads-up in the fashion world, and she even drove a car before it was common for women to drive, she was able to make her own clothes and even had a a mannequin of her measurements like the 15 YR old now has as well and designs and makes her own clothes and designs( I wonder where that came from? Babushka….are you able to see this?”) sewing, knitting and crocheting, and she even laid down carpet and built the deck out back, skills learned from growing up with 5 brothers! She would have been 105 YRS old now, but she died when she was 93. I still miss her and when I die I want it to be her that meets me.
We still don’t know who sent the 17 YR old the anonymous flowers on Valentine’s Day,either, and the thought occured to me, ” How do we even know that a boy sent it?” maybe it’s possible it’s from a girl, and she doesn’t want us to know! Is she possibly gay but afraid to tell us? I mean, the possibility has crossed my mind on occassion that the probability is there that out of 11 kids that the odds are that one of them may very well likely turn out to be gay…and for Valentine’s Day dinner she did go out to dinner with 2 female friends and she really dressed up fancy, like it was a date….even if she(or any of the kids) is gay it still won’t change anything,though,and I won’t feel any differently about her, or think “less” of her, or disown her, or anything like that,and one thing I’ve learned in life is that life’s too short to not be happy, and I just want them(the kids) to be happy, to find love, and to be themselves.
The kids also grumble about Buddy about me, “Why does he love her so much?” and I told them, “How about because he’s my dog and I love him,and I’m nice to him?” and I had this realization as well that each day I post a blog entry it could be my last if I die that night in my sleep and I never get the chance to do any more posts,and so it got me thinking, “What will my very last words end up being?” I just hope it ends up being something nice though, like about love, peace, or about hippos, about something I care about and love,and that it doesn’t end up rude or,tragic, or too sad.Whatever it is, it will immortalize me forever.I wonder what my last words will end up being? Here’s today final thought I leave you with sums up my life experiences perfectly:
Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion. – Arthur Koestler