09/14/12 12:35 Filed in: Musings
My mother (the amazing seamstress) made Rags’ new dress -- the old one had literally disintegrated. I have no recollection of my mother making a single comment to me re: why Rags’ was crying. It also seems I put a happy face on her; why I don’t know. I suppose it reflects the dual nature of my survival instinct -- deep sadness and fear combined with a “happy” exterior -- the false face which was safer to project in my mother’s presense.
I also had a dollhouse, but it was likewise inhabited by animals. A small mouse was the matriarch of the family, but she was not married. She had a live-in companion.
Children are far more observant than adults give them credit for. Read More...