Mourning memories

I watched from my bedroom window, tears rolling down my cheeks. The little girl and her mom walked down the driveway back to their car, taking some of my childhood with them.

A couple of years ago, my mom and I perused our basement for garage sale items.

“Which doll house do you want to keep?” she asked me.

I decided to go with the giant dream Barbie house, figuring my children would be more apt to like something modern-looking. The house even has its own elevator, for Christ’s sake. My mom didn’t say anything at the time, but she wished I would have kept the Fisher Price one instead. I played with that one more and even dubbed the little boy with curly, black hair “Jordan” after my oldest brother (he was African American too, the doll, I mean – my parents got a kick out of that!).

The Fisher Price dollhouse I so loved.

The little girl and her mom purchased that house from our garage sale that day, along with my Fisher Price makeup vanity and several baby dolls. But it was the Fisher Price house that got me. And I’ve regretted choosing to sell that house ever since.

Watching them walk away that day, I wished I could go back in time to my younger days. Then I realize how stupid and self-centered that makes me.

There are kids who don’t even have toys to play with, and I, at nearly 19 years old, sit here mourning the loss of mine? Somebody slap me.

Hurricane Sandy recently destroyed my friend’s home down near New York City. To top that off, their family business suffered great damage from the storm as well. Toys were destroyed. Family memories were destroyed. Hurricane Sandy basically destroyed life as they knew it.

And you mourn the loss of a few toys? Grow up, Emily. They weren’t destroyed. Your house is still intact. Your memories are still preserved. And those memories you left in that dollhouse, vanity and baby dolls? A different little girl has had the chance to enjoy them, too. They’re not gathering dust in your parents’ basement anymore. You gave a little girl the chance to play with some really nice things. She and her mother took the opportunity you gave them.

I take a lot of things for granted. My friend’s childhood memories are most likely gone now. I need to stop mourning mine.

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