Friday, March 23, 2012

Night gowns...

Do you know any woman who sleeps in night gowns?  I don't.  Or, if I do, I don't know who they are.  They are a thing of the past, tucked away with slips and panty hose.  Modern women don't wear those types of things.  We sleep in tee shirts and flannel pants and cut off sweats.  We don't wear slips, and we sure as heck don't wish panty hose on our worst enemy.

My grandmother loved night gowns.  Thin and silky, light and airy.  And she wore house coats.  I don't mean house coats in terms of a fluffy robe.  I am referring to house coats as in a day dress... basically, a night gown for the day.  Her day gowns usually buttoned up the front, had a little pocket on one side, and were made of floral or pastel colored fabric.

Yesterday, I went to visit my mom, and she wanted me to go through some bags of my grandmother's clothes she had there are the house.  I pulled them out, and I smelled her one last time.  One bag was almost completely full of night and day gowns.  There were some I couldn't part with, some of which I thought, "If I pull out that sewing machine at some point in my life, I can use this fabric to make something... something to remember her with."  You see, that thought, the one in which whispers that something can be made from this... that very thought is her bubbling up within me.  Her blood.  Her creativity and love for pretty fabric.  Her.

Another bag was full of clothes she wore in her final years.  My how her fashion sense had changed as she neared her nineties!  Blouses and trousers were replaced with comfy velour pants and tee shirts.  I pulled out a shirt I remember her boasting about just a few years ago.  "I found that at Walmarts.  Only $5.  So I bought two."  Walmart was never in the singular form.  She always added an S to the end.  And she was always on the look out for a bargain, making the most of every penny that came into their household.  There were many times at a department store in the mall when my mother and I would lose her, only to find her perusing the clearance rack.

There was something so simple about her.  Something so pure.  An heir about her that just put you at ease around her no matter what was going on.  I miss her.

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