One year ago this month, shortly after coming to SC, I commented on secretlife's post 'Handle with care'. In that comment I mentioned a porcelain doll. I was somewhat off on the doll's age as it seems she is, as far as we can tell, about twenty-one years old instead of the fifteen I quoted. And she deserves a post of her own.
Initially, she came to us when we had been married four years, our sons were two and four. This is the story of Jess.
My wife and I were at an arts & crafts show before Christmas, the year we believe was 1987. As we walked up and down the aisles of the show, we stopped at the booth of a woman that made dolls. Of the many there, my wife shortly chose her favorite, one she sincerely liked. We continued on through the show and some time later, I made an excuse to leave for a moment.
I went back to the doll woman and told her I wanted this doll for my wife for Christmas but obviously couldn't take it with me. She gave me her card and said she would hold it until I could pick it up at her house. About a week later, I made an appointment. She lived in a beautiful home in the valley and showed me her workshop which was a large addition onto the house.
There, I bought Jess for three hundred dollars in 1987 money. A 'one of a kind' and one of the finest purchases I've ever made. She stands about two feet tall, dressed in a full length dark blue dress, flowered long sleeve blouse, ankle high black boots, waist length auburn hair, and dark blue eyes.
If she walked, she would strut. Her pose tells you she is hot stuff. Her eyes tell you she is good at anything and knows it.
My wife was totally surprised and beside herself when she opened her Christmas morning. She loves this doll and she has been in our living room ever since.
Not too long after that, I built an entertainment center. In the middle is a large screen tv and the sides from floor to ceiling are openings. The opening at the top left I built especially for Jess.
She has watched over us all this time. Watched the kids grow, watched our marriage flourish. And we have looked back at her every day. That main part of the house would seem bare without her.
She has come to almost be known as a symbol of our life together.
I wonder what she would say to me if she could talk.
Sometimes I stare at her and expect her lips to move.
A material thing, a porcelain doll, a member of the family.
I wonder how these things can even happen...



