Debbie

Another weekend, cleaning up my parents home. My sister and I have sorted through a lifetime of memories, laughing at some and sentimentally crying through others. We are recounting stories of our past, some that have not been thought about in years. I realize that these stories have comprised the book of my parent's lives. We all leave a book. They left a warm hearted novel mixed with humor and memories. Just this morning I thought of one of those memories. When I was about 7 years old, I got a baby doll named Debbie. I slept with her every night and loved her so much. Debbie now lives in my nightstand. At 10 years old I went to sleepaway camp. I did not take Debbie as I was fearful of her being lost. After I was in camp a week, my parent wrote that they were going on a 7 day cruise. It dawned on me that Debbie would be alone in the house. When I called home a few days later, I cried that Debbie would be in an empty house. My mother assured me that Debbie would go on the cruise with them. She knew how attached I was to the doll and my mother would do everything in her power to make her daughters happy. When visiting day came around, my parents brought us pictures of their cruise. There was Debbie in the stateroom. There was Debbie at the pool. There was Debbie in the Bahamas posing in the street. She was all over, in the hands of my smiling mother. I am almost 65 years old and I never forgot the loving gesture my mother did for me when I was ten.