My aunt went on, “I don’t know what will become of Sadie. Will you take her home with you and look after her?” “One day, I will,” I replied. But, for now, she can remain in quiet retirement. She has earned her rest.
Do you remember Sadie Rosemary? The family doll of long years and multiple identities?
About six weeks ago, I visited my aunt at her retirement home. She said it was time for me to take care of Sadie; to bring her home with me. The “one day” we spoke of, on previous occasions, had arrived. It was now. No excuses!
So, I swaddled Sadie in her orange shawl, gathered her close, like a newborn babe, and presented her to my aunt for a farewell kiss and, then, with tear-salted smiles, we were off. Off, by car, across the Plains, to begin another chapter in the Life of Sadie Rosemary. It will, most likely, be a staid chapter but Sadie won’t mind. She’s a patient, placid sort, used to sitting about, and letting what will be, be. And, in the process of sitting and being, she’s experienced an enormous amount of life; much more than you would believe by simply looking at her baby-sized self.
Sadie came to life in Japan in the 1920s. Still brand new, she was shipped out to New Zealand (much like any other settler of the early days), where she found a home in Papanui with two young girls, only a little older than herself. They all wore matching knitted dresses, home-made in New Zealand. 🙂
Later, when the little girls grew up, one of them, the one with curly-whirly hair, went to Fiji, and Sadie eventually joined her, to be cared for by two more little girls; my sister and I. Sadie, being a celluloid doll, was not supposed to do well in the heat and moisture but, somehow, she survived more than twenty years in the tropics without exploding or disintegrating. Which meant that, one day, she was able to fly ( in a jet plane, no less! ) all the way back to New Zealand, where, after a certain amount of reverse culture shock, she settled down to a time of quiet contemplation, in the home of her very first companion, my aunt, ( the one with tidy hair and beautiful big bow). In a small, country town they grew old souls, together,
until that moment, last month, when my aunt said “Now, Sadie, NOW is the time for your next home”.
And, so, here she is, safely home, yet again. To a place where she is snug and content,
and as deeply loved as ever she was.
But quietly, quietly, I ask, ” Sadie, Rosemary, Sadie, who will take care of you next? ” And from the pale blue eyes there comes a whisper, “Patience, patience; the time is not yet.” Such wisdom from a doll of long years. 🙂