Changing Places

This story is spun from the last line of the novel My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Pocoult - ‘I take her with me, wherever I go.’ Our Writers’ group assignment, I mistakenly thought this line was to be the first line of our assignment! It was to be the last line of the story. I’ll have that revision tomorrow evening. Words are so malleable!

Here is the original story, spun from the last line of My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Pocoult - ‘I take her with me, wherever I go.’ It was written for Victoria Writer’s Group held last Wednesday over Zoom:

‘I take her with me, wherever I go.’ Molly is soft and smudged. Her hair, once neon red, is now strange shade of 60 year old dusty red. Her face still smiles at me from her perch on the bed. No wrinkles like mine. She still wears the beautiful lavender dress she wore on that birthday long ago, now faded with a frayed lace collar. Unless I take it off her to be washed, covering her tenderly with her blanket, the greyness of the years makes it look dirty. At one time, she had lovely little socks. Knitted white with a laced fringed fold over top. Now, one sock is left, but she wears it anyway. My granddaughter asked one day “Grandma, why do you still take her with you when you go away?” She has been my companion and confidante on long journeys or just as my quiet friend. More than that she is a memory of another little doll I had been given. A doll who went the way of a mischievous child’s destructive nature. My childhood’s vow was that she would be taken care of and I would take her with me, wherever I go. Tiring of being stuffed in a suitcase or carryon, when I go away, she prefers to stay with my granddaughter. 

Changing Places

‘I take her with me, wherever I go.’ Molly is soft and smudged. Her hair, once neon red, is now a strange shade of 60 year old dusty red. Her face still smiles at me from her perch on the bed. No wrinkles like mine. She was given to me on my tenth birthday. She still wears the beautiful blue dress, now faded, that has a yellowed and frayed lace collar. Unless I take it to be washed, the greyness of the years makes it look dirty. At one time, she had lovely little socks. Knitted white with a frothy lace-fringed fold over top. Now, only one sock is left, but she wears it anyway. 

My granddaughter asked one day “Grandma, why do you still take her with you when you go away?” Well, she has been my companion and friend on long journeys. Even more, she is a memory of another little doll I had been given. A doll who was destroyed by a mischievous five year old who didn’t seem to know any better. On that birthday, I vowed that she would be taken care of and I would take her with me, wherever I go.” My granddaughter looked awfully serious, and puzzled. She looked up at me and asked “Do you think she’s getting tired of being stuffed in your suitcase when you go away?” I smiled inside and tried to look as thoughtful as possible. “You know, honey, I really thing she’d is quite tired and really would rather stay with you..… if that’s alright.” Her little face lit up with smiles. “Really, grandma?! Won’t you get lonesome?” I hugged her to me. “No, but I will be happy that my Molly is safe with you.”

“Dolls are safe companions.”

~ Louisa May Alcott

~~~~~