reedy's rambles

My mom is cleaning underneath the stairs. No, I am not writing a horror story. Rain comes periodically and floods the basement causing boxes to mold and break down. So, mom bought plastic containers to store our old dolls, stuffed animals, barbies, and assorted childhood memories. She had everything strewn all over the basement floor. We divided our childhood into piles, so that we can take our prizes to our own establishments at a later time (I honestly think that they are going to remain under the stairs until kingdom comes). But none of this is what has prompted me to write.

Skating Kimberly is the reason for this post. On an impulse, I searched the internet for a picture of Kimberly. I typed "Kimberly doll skate." And I found her:


I can't believe I remembered her name! Now, my "Kimberly" did not look like the picture. My Kimberly's skates are long gone, her hair is no longer perfect, and her left foot is . . . Well, it has been . . . chewed off. But don't worry, she had a toilet paper cast molded to her leg. No doubt the result of a tragic skating accident.

Here's what I thought about today. Did I realize when I created Kim's cast that it would be the last time I thought she could break her leg? Did I know that she would disappear into a box under stairs only to end up with mold in her Californian hair? When is the exact moment you stop playing with a doll? When does she stop being a friend and start being a memory? Each doll and stuffed animal had a last moment.

Kimberly's fate was not the trash can today. I just couldn't do it. She got a ticket in the box (cast and all).