My Full Hands

I have been going through old photographs and thought I'd record some of the memories that go along with them before they are gone forever. Welcome to my:

Here am I, about 13 or 14 acting silly and sporting one of my mom's hats. Actually, I think is was her only hat. I remember retrieving it from wherever Mom kept it and wearing it in play through out my childhood, and apparently into my teen aged years as well. It was an off white crocheted beanie with quarter sized sequins stitched all over it. Kind of like a porcupine dressed up for a ball.

I could never imagine Mom wearing it, and I never actually saw her do so, but I think she must have somehow loved this hat; it hung around the house for many years. Maybe she held onto it so her daughters could dress up in it, or so her teenagers could mock it, or because she just really loved it. Perhaps she had made good memories wearing it, or someone had made it for her and she just couldn't get rid of it. Kind of like the green sweater my husband bought me for our engagement picture that wore out, went out of style, and yet I sentimentally kept it in my closet for way longer than I should have.

Seriously though, who could blame her for keeping such a cool hat? When it wasn't being worn as some sort of crazy crown, I loved to brush my hands across the sequins and feel each little piece of plastic flick off my skin. Occasionally one would come off and I would look how the others would almost camouflage the place where it had been.

My kids don't dress up in many of my clothes, except a pair of ankle high black boots that they like to tromp around in. I have thought about getting rid of them, but the kids do like them, and it keeps them from playing with my other shoes. Perhaps one day we will be looking at a picture of the kids in those boots and they will say, "Remember those funky old boots we used to wear? What was Mom thinking when she bought those?"