Mom Archives - Art & Words

A few days ago it occurred to me that this week is fifty years since my mother died. I mean, this shouldn’t have surprised me – I know how old I am, after all. But despite noting the anniversary date each year, time goes on. You don’t necessarily think of how long it has actually been, with every anniversary. Also, my dad and I used to always speak on the day, whether he called me or I him. It wasn’t an emotional call. It was more just a quiet acknowledgement. And perhaps, a reassurance to the other that at least, we were still here.

In perspective

My perspective of her death has changed over time, of course. She died when I was very young. I understood she died, understood her illness, I had these concepts. But when she died, I had really only known her as my mother. My little five-year old’s heart didn’t conceive of her as anything else. Obviously as I grew older I imagined her at her other ages, and in other roles, her first jobs, her falling in love with my dad, her private aspirations and passions. As I got older, my heartache was not for what I had lost, but for what she had.

Fifty years feels like a long time. When you get married, or have a child, or hit other milestones, you miss the loved ones you’ve lost; one might say, especially your mother. Difficulties are confronted without her, joys are celebrated without her.

I now feel so far beyond the age she had the opportunity to live to, I sometimes wonder how she might perceive me. Would her perspective be that of a 32-year-old? It is an odd thing to contemplate (and probably pointless).

It’s natural

Years ago I was seeing a therapist, and I mentioned to her that some of my friends thought I spent too much time dwelling on death. I explained to her it wasn’t so much a dwelling on death. It was a feeling that it was always present, and therefore, I felt a need to try and understand it. She laughed, and said it was perfectly natural for me to contemplate such things, as I’d lost the most important person in my life at such a young age. She said it would actually be more concerning if I didn’t think about it.

I don’t dwell on it. Rather, I remember it, remember her, and especially on an anniversary like the fiftieth year, I feel a need to honor her with more intention than many other years. I still have some of those old questions born in childhood – where did she go? Is she still around, is she truly gone, is she watching over us, is she at peace…? I am more of a skeptic than I used to be, though the hospice nurses who cared for my dad certainly opened my heart to the possibility again that there is something more beyond death, some kind of continuation of the soul. I heard remarkable stories from their personal as well as professional lives, that gave evidence of something beyond this life.

A reaching out

At fifty years, if she is still around somewhere, even just an awareness of soul, I hope she knows that for fifty years she has always still been loved deeply, and missed terribly. She is remembered, thought of often, and held dear within our hearts.

~ Nellie

image: the photo is of her and me, when I was just a toddler, several years before she died

I am not a doll collector. My grandmother Josephine collected dolls. She bought dolls when she traveled to other countries, she sewed soft dolls and painted their molded faces with curling smiles and mischievous eyes, she repeatedly promised me she had an ever-growing doll collection for me that I would receive when I was “old enough.” I never was old enough, but after she passed away I did find a number of dolls in her attic. I wondered if they were the collection she had always promised me. Unfortunately, many were in bad shape from being poorly stored, and could not be salvaged, but I was able to hold onto a couple peg dolls she had bought in Poland.

My mother’s doll Tina

When I was very little my mother let me play with her childhood doll Tina. This was an intimidating doll, with moving parts. I was forever traumatizing myself with it because it seemed to break so easily. One time I ended up hiding in the closet, thinking I had broken Tina for good and fearing my mother would be furious. My dad found me, and after a quick laugh and a hug, reassured me I had not broken my mother’s doll. He showed me how her eyes were simply askew, and he fixed it right away. And my mother was not furious. Still, after that I pretty much avoided playing with her.

I have had Tina since my mother passed away though. Past her prime for playing, she’s a delicate seeming doll, so she has mostly been kept in storage. Recently I have been going through a lot of old family items. I took Tina out of her box and became inspired to clean her up, possibly try my hand at simple repairs or refurbishment, and honestly, it set me on a completely unexpected course (since I am not a doll collector).

A walking doll from the 1950s

Tina is apparently (and please excuse my newbishness here, for anyone reading who might actually have experience with old or vintage dolls), a Tina toddler walking doll, by IMPCO. Her hard plastic body is jointed, she has a sound box (though I don’t recall her ever “talking”), her mouth shows teeth and a tongue, and her eyes move. There are issues that clearly need repair of some sort. Her head is very loose (having lost some kind of internal S hook along the way), her eyes close if she is tilted just slightly, and her limbs are almost dangly.

Preliminary doll clean-up

*After a short, gentle clean-up, but before doing the hair. The plastic bag was to protect the body from water while cleaning the hair (I hadn’t planned on blogging about the process!*)

Following some online advice, I cleaned her gently and tried to wash and brush her hair. The hair seemed way too brittle, even using a small metal pet comb. After an initial dipping of the hair in warm water I just let it dry and I re-braided it. I hand washed her clothes, but had to throw out her shorts and socks. After getting her all dressed again, I sat her in the living room, temporarily. When my husband noticed her he said she looked really good and I had done a great job. She no longer looked matted and dusty, or afflicted by cataracts. I can’t believe I am going to say this, but she looked pretty and happy – which is probably exactly how she was supposed to look, to the little girls who had such dolls, like my mom.

Obviously, there is much more to be done; this was just preliminary. What I would really like to do is clean her more thoroughly and repair her. I need to repair her limbs so they do not seem like they are going to just flop around or fall off. I’d like to replace the S hook inside her head so it doesn’t continually tilt alarmingly – causing her eyes to close. I would also like to figure out if I can do something to clean her hair. Her clothing could use some repairing as well. Those sleeves need stitching to give them some gathers, and I should probably iron the dress as well.

What makes a doll collector?

After I set Tina aside and gathered the little dolls from Poland, I looked around and realized there are other dolls in my house, placed here and there.

I have small hand-carved kachinas from Arizona that although they are not playthings, might technically be considered dolls. They were given to me by a family friend who collects larger kachinas, when I was quite young. I also have two Strange Dolls, handmade by a local artisan, that I have displayed over my desk. They are my only modern dolls, which I actually bought for myself. There are also a couple Annalee dolls – both gifts, one from when I was a kid.

There is a ceramic figurine my grandmother Jo had made back in the 1950s that she and my aunts called a “doll.” She had loved doing ceramics using Holland Molds, and this figure was particularly unique. Not only did she cast it, paint it, and glaze it, she created a dress for it out of lace. That is another that will require careful handling and delicate repair. I currently have no idea how to clean it.

This quick, quiet perusal made me wonder just how many dolls one must own in order for it to be a collection… Or perhaps I should put it this way: how many dolls can one own before it is considered a collection? Because it is possible that I am a doll collector after all.

As always, please don’t hesitate to get in touch or leave a comment. I’d love to hear of any great resources for refurbishing dolls like Tina, so please feel free to suggest some. Thanks!