In my twenties, I was living in a room in the house of a lady from Louisiana. I called her Lonnie.
Her cozy house and considerate manner filled a need I had for family. I had dropped out of college and found a job downtown and at in Lonnie’s house I could relax in peace. I never got along very well with my mother, so she gave me some pointers. She assured me that my mother loved me, no matter what she said or did, and that mothers need to be reassured too.
Around Christmas time we talked about her about her late daughter, Billie, whose picture decorated each room. While staying in Billie’s old room, I had some strange dreams. The day we decorated her Christmas tree together we took a hot chocolate break. After, Lonnie grabbed an electric lantern and led me to her attic.
Opening the door to the attic, I found a lot of things hidden up there. To my right was an old trunk. Unlocking the trunk, Lonnie displayed a stack of sweaters that belonged to her daughter. She held up a royal blue one, with pearl buttons. She had me try it on, and then a few sweaters after that. I was the same size as Billie was. Although I had an uneasy feeling about putting them on, I saw how her eyes lit up and between a few tears, some happiness showing through. Her wrinkles lifted and she put her hands together and said, “You know I never had a chance to say goodbye to Billie. We had a fight and she slammed out of the house and then got into that accident!” She stopped for a moment, her eyes fixed on me again. “If you just try to understand your mother, that’s the beginning. But life is short, Diane.” She offered me several sweaters and I accepted them.
Later back at the tree side we continued our hot chocolate. Elvis was her favorite, so we sang along with ‘Blue Christmas’ blasting from her stereo player. Since that day and to the end of my mother’s life, I tried my best to understand and love. I have many memories of us celebrating Christmas and other simple visits. And I never look down on thrift store buys. If the sweater fits and looks good, I get it! It was probably worn by someone who was loved and missed.
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