This is a vintage story with a happy ending. When I was a little girl somewhere between 8 and 11 there was this lady that went to our church in Sacramento. She always came with her two beautiful teenage or young adult daughters. They were the prettiest girls I had ever seen. One had dark hair and dark eyes. The other had long blond hair and sparkly blue eyes. One played the piano and one the violin. The details have kind of blurred over the years and I don't even know their names. What I do know for sure is they were so beautiful in my little girl eyes. I wanted to be just like them when I grew up and I remember thinking what a lucky Mom they had. I waited each week to see them and their pretty outfits. They were so graceful which was only exaggerated to me by own preteen awkwardness. I was so infatuated with them.
About that time in history the little Ginny Doll was so popular and my parents let me get two of them. I was in heaven over being able to have two. That was so fun for me because they were sisters in my imagination. Something I wanted myself so badly but never did have. The cool thing about them was they had very life-like hair for styling and little glass eyes and lashes and a ton of darling little clothes you could buy.
The Ginny doll was only about six or seven inches tall. She had a carrying case for all the accessories. When you stood the case on its side it was like a little closet and it had tiny plastic hangers and a little rod to hang the clothes on. I was never much of a doll girl, but I did love those particular ones. The best part was you got to choose eye and hair color and I had two that I chose specifically to look like those beautiful girls at church. I idolized those girls, I really did looking back on it now.
Well, looking through old photos the other day I ran across this beautiful picture of our daughters from the 1990s. They are just as striking a contrast as those girls in our church and the Ginny dolls. Oh how I did love to dress them up and get them all fancy when they were little. And even now I love playing with them more than anyone. Having them was a dream come true for me, a little girl with no sisters growing up. I sure do miss the good ole days when they were here under our roof being my little dollies. Mothers never seem to feel quite whole when their children are living away. Even an active imagination doesn't fix it. The gift of memories is the only salve.
Jennifer and Laura