Little Dream Come True

    

         I sat on my bedroom floor between the stack of coloring books and pile of doll clothes and ran my fingers through my doll's thick brunette hair. Her hair was tangled and her fingernail polish from the week before had rubbed off between baths and long hours of play. I laid her down and rummaged through the pile of pink and purple clothes. I held them up to the light, examining them critically. The festive purple dress had a small rip in it along the collar and the pink sweater had slowly begun to unravel on the left sleeve just at the wrist. If my mama had taught me anything, it was to make do with what you have. I took a small pair of dull play-doh scissors and cut the loose yarn from the pink sweater, tied off the end, and sprayed a little bit of mama's perfume on it for good measure.

"Alright, Addie, raise your arms up in the air."

        I manually twisted the doll's arms to where they were stretched above her head and I slipped the sweater over her bare arms and then over her chest. The sun filtered through my bedroom's only window and illuminated the dirty bits of Addie's face.

"You're really messy, sweetie. Mama will make you look so pretty, though.", I said with a wide grin and with all the strength of a genuine promise.

        I lightly licked my thumb and pointer finger and looked apologetically at Addie.

"I know you don't like this, but my mama always does this to me when we're in a hurry and she's dropping me off at school. She says that spit works just fine."

         The dirty smudges on Addie's face slowly faded as I moved my moist fingers along her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Next, I took her small hands into mine and painted her fingernails bright blue. Mama had told me that she wore that very same color of blue on her eyes in the 80's.

         Addie had been found by me only three weeks earlier on South Main Street at an old lady's garage sale. The old lady asked me what I was looking for as she exhaled cigarette smoke and took a quick swig of sweet tea.

"I'm lookin' for a baby doll.", I said while clutching mama's hand tighter.

"Hmmm...well I got a whole box of 'em over there. My granddaughter is all grown up now and doesn't play with hers anymore. Go on and take a look, darlin'.", she said and then walked up to her next potential customer--one with more money than my sandwich bag of dimes and nickels.

          Just then, peeking out of the box I saw Addie for the first time. I picked her up and held her to my chest. She was completely naked, her hair was all messy, and one of her eyes opened and shut a lot more rapidly than the other. My heart opened to her right away and I whispered in her ear, "I'm gonna be your mama." A few minutes later, I emptied my sandwich bag of coins in the old woman's hands and was given a small bag of clothes for Addie free of charge. They all smelled like a stale basement and some grown-up girl's old memories.

            For the following months, I mimicked everything that my mama did. When mama made me a grilled cheese, I prepared a small one for Addie so that she could eat, too. I washed Addie's hair with green apple shampoo just like mama washed mine. I tucked Addie in securely at night and mama helped us to say our prayers. I buckled Addie into the car and made sure to hold her closely when crossing the parking lot at the grocery store. I didn't let Addie get too sassy and asked her to apologize when she did. I taught her to make mud pies and painted her fingernails when she wanted me to just like my mama did for me. Addie was my baby and I took being her mama very seriously. Addie was my little dream come true.

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          Now, twenty years later I sit here in my grown-up house with my grown-up things and cannot remember exactly what happened to Addie. I believe that she may have been handed down to one of my sisters or perhaps sold in a garage sale that our family had throughout the years. I suppose there came a time when I began to look after and care for myself more than I did for Addie. I stopped tucking her in, painting her nails, and making sure that she had a clean shirt on. I traded in dolls for phone calls and crushes. The age of innocence faded with Addie's fingernail polish.

          I sit here in bed and look at the wedding photos adorning the walls and my husband's coat hanging on the closet door. I have the laptop sitting on a pillow in front of me so my lap can hold my big pregnant belly. The lamp shines just over my left shoulder where an empty baby bassinet waits for our daughter's arrival next month. Slowly, places in our home are becoming designated for baby gear, diaper changing stations, and long-awaited baby snuggle time.

         As I reflect on child's play with Addie and the attentiveness that I showered upon her, I realize that it wasn't her that instilled the desire to be a mother in me. It was my mama. The cookies she baked, the boo-boos she kissed, the fevers she waited out with me, the jokes she told, the tears she wiped away, the mud pies that she pretended to eat, the times that she held me for no reason at all other than to say "I love you", the marathon readings of the same children's book that she thought would never end, the grilled cheeses, and the sacrifice of it all--that is what made me want to be a mama. It was always her example of genuine sacrificial love.

        Our little girl will know the love that her mama has for her. I will mess up a lot. There will be times that I feel like I'm falling apart and don't know what I am doing. At the end of the day, though, if her hair is tangled, her pink sweater is coming unraveled, and she has dirty smudges on her face she will have the assurance of knowing that she is loved unconditionally. Like my mama taught me: you make do with what you have and you love with all of your heart.

         Amaya, you are my little dream come true. xx