I recently wrote an entry on my Facebook page about the glorious joys, pure sweetness and giggles God grants me daily. Usually, these highs come through all the little folks that are in my life. It seems just when I’m totally overwhelmed and ready to quit – they hit me with something so dag-nab-it sweet – my breath is restored.
I don’t know if you know this or not but I was very spoiled as a child (perhaps some of you think this is still the case – and I will tell you that I am spoiled and
I- L-I-K-E I-T L-I-K-E T-H-A-T). I had many toys and dolls (although I remember my mother breaking the “we’re poor” news to me). The dolls were okay, but in my mind, my Tamu® doll was way more than some ole toy. She was my friend.
Tamu® had a cute little afro, was a pretty chocolate brown and had a pull string. Her voice box allowed her to say, “Let’s play house, I love you, &Tamu means sweet.” She said some other stuff but those are the phrases that have stuck with me over the years.
One year, shortly after beginning school, my cousins moved back from California and my grandmother asked me if it would be okay for my cousin to have a doll because they’d left their toys. I was horrified that a child would be without toys and gave her Tamu®. Between you and me, it took me a while to get over not having Tamu® but what can I say, I have a generous heart.
Later that year, I received another Tamu® due to my kindness (but as this story unfolds perhaps my grandmother heard me crying that night). Tamu® #2 and I grew up and somewhat apart (I still had her in the house but didn’t turn to her as much as before) and at some point my mother annexed her to the hope chest (after explaining that Tamu® had suffered some injuries at the hands of my cousins – but she’d repaired her as much as possible and kept her for me).
Some years ago, my mother turned loose all of the dolls she’d annexed to the hope chest. Tamu® was returned to me a little worn. One of the injuries she’d endured was the loss of some fingers. I guess my cousins wanted me to have that middle finger message for life! My mother was able to repair her hind parts and even put a cute little gown on her and combed her hair. She still looked sweet as ever to me!
She resided in my room and as life would have it– she got pushed to the side again. Then one day I woke up – tired of the clutter and got a couple of tubs and put some stuff in it. Unfortunately, at the time, it seemed right to place Tamu® in one of the tubs. The tubs eventually ended up outside.
One year later, I woke early on a Saturday with the sole clear question of, “where is Tamu®?” I looked high and I looked low. I looked in, under and around. Something led me to the tubs and of course I found Tamu®, cold, wet and icky in a tub that somehow had gotten water in it.
My dear friend was submerged in the water. And because I’m so smart and very well educated…. I put her in the washer. Com’on what could go wrong – her voice box didn’t work anymore anyway? You guessed it! She was in a million pieces. The only thing I could recognize was her head and hands (yes even the hand with the offending gesture). WTHIRGO? I’m a nut!
Needless to say, I was in crisis. I had a heart bo-bo so I called my mom (who else would I call to fix my bo-bo). I swear I heard a little giggle escape her and I had to really make a pitch to get her to come and see what I’d done so she could “fix it.” Yes, I really had to hit her with the, “Samuel said you can fix anything and he knows peoples power so come over here.” She told me that Sam and I are both crazy but she came over.
Upon arrival, we both looked into the washer (and again, I heard a little giggle escape her – but her face was serious so I let it go). I put the remains of my dear friend (minus the head) into a mesh bag and placed it all in the dryer. I endured the inquisition about what I was thinking when I put my doll that was made in 1969 (44 years old) in the washer and the snide comments from my nieces (even Allie who had a chuckle when she noticed a hand in the bag).
That evening, I told my “invitation to love” my sad, sad story. He listened (with what looked like a smirk on his face to me but by that time I was over sensitive to my loss) and he graciously expressed sorrow for my loss. Then that man got online and found me another Tamu®! Oh all right, I confess that I first declined the offer from this lovely man because well….
He wouldn’t have even asked me about it but he felt he should be sure he had the right doll as he didn’t want to add insult to injury by getting me the wrong doll. And by the end of the week, Tamu® #3 and I were united.
I combed her hair, bought her a new outfit and placed her on the sofa in my room. I’ve pledged to her to not allow her to get pushed to the side in my life again because when I knew she no longer existed – I was truly very upset (almost moved to tears).