I find it funny that my mother and I wore the same size clothing. Well, actually I find it ironic that, at a time that I needed new jeans she provided. As I began looking through her closet I found capris and like new jeans that fit me. This is truly a blessing as I am to begin a new part-time job and I was in need of jeans for it. Thank you Mom!
As I made my way through her blouses I could pick out the ones that she wore most often. She would be sitting in her recliner, playing Free cell or reading a book or watching an old movie while donning them more often than others. Days of long ago I can see her in the yard working on it while in a sleeveless button shirt. The older jeans she wore were Wranglers, men’s I’ll tell you. She always worked like a man and said men’s Wranglers fit her better! 🙂 Her night gowns and house coats were an item of softness. Upon trying on one of my mother’s blouses it smelled just of her. Downy and cigarettes. I know, odd but comforting at the same time now. Don’t worry, I’ve washed the clothes I brought home. 🙂
I can recall while growing up one particular image of my mother. Curlers in her hair, normally overnight, but sometimes during the day. I’d see the black rollers with pink plastic pins holding them in tightly. She still had them, in her Artex painted canvas bag in the bathroom.
She preferred to roll her hair in curlers but as her back injury got worse she was unable to. She began to cut her hair quite short and although she looked pretty, it just wasn’t quite the same for us kids.
Her hair was always parted to the same side, bangs curled. Her forehead was hardly ever covered up in her life until the last few years. It’s funny the things that you remember, the things that are memories.
While shopping in my Mom’s closet it brought back memories. The rest will help another, I hope they feel warmth and comfort in the clothes that were my mothers.
Grace is a gift,