About a month ago I was in the process of tidying up my closet, purging myself of clothing and things I felt I no longer needed or that I no longer appreciated. I was getting ready for a fresh start in the new year I guess. I came across a pair of jeans neatly folded and tucked way in on the top shelf. Size 12. I have not been this size in many years. I took those jeans down, held them up by the waist and let them fall in front of me. Examining them, Gawd, did I ever fit into these? The bigger question though, was why were these jeans still with me, still on my closet shelf. It had been at least six years since they fit me. Ah, I reason, these are the jeans that came to Paris with me, these are my roam around Paris jeans, my "I can wear a belt and love how I look jeans", that's why I still have them. Such nice jeans. As I had started folding them again, and reached up to return them to their safe place, I looked at them one more time and decided, Liza, it is time, I flicked them in the give away pile, knowing I will always enjoy my memories of Paris with our without these jeans.
I feel good about letting the jeans go, but this post is not actually about my jeans or about Paris; however that decision to let go of my jeans started a whole other series of events...
As I continued to dig in my closet.
I noticed a pretty pink box with flowers on it. There she was, just like new in her original box, Mrs. Beasley. (For those of you my age you will know she was a very popular doll in the 60-70's). Mrs. Beasley has been on my closet shelf in some form or other for at least 13 years. As a child, the original Mrs.Beasley came everywhere with me. She was unique in that she was not a baby doll, but an elderly woman doll. She was made popular by the TV show Family Affair.
Through the kerfuffle of life my original Mrs. Beasley got left behind, and well forgotten until a conversation happened many decades later in which I was asked if I could have a thing from childhood that was lost what would it be. My mind was immediately brought back to Mrs. Beasley (And of course I shared many many stories about my relationship with her and provided examples as to why I chose her). That was my answer. Yes, I would not mind still having that doll I stated.
Much time had passed, I had forgotten about that wine-induced conversation, and it would soon become the year 2000. I had no idea that the original creators of Mrs. Beasley had re-released her as an exact duplicate of the original doll with all the profits going towards organizations that helped children who had been sexually abused.
So, Christmas 1999 came and went and Mrs. Beasley was carefully packed into the little Sprint along with many other packages for the return to PEI voyage. For a while, Mrs. Beasley, still in her box, had a revered place on a shelf in the living room, but after a while she was transferred to the closet and there she lived, always in the closet, many homes, many closets later until my above described Purge stuff moment.
For some reason, throughout all the changes life had brought, I had not been able to part with this thoughtful gift. This, even though the person who gave it to me was no longer in my life on any level, and even though I had rid myself of all other remnants of that time in my life.
That day was different though. I took her down from the closet shelf, opened the box, took the twist ties off her neck, pulled her out of the box, pulled on the string attached to her voice box heard Cheryl Ladd say , "Do you want to play with my glasses?" in a old woman's voice...and nothing. Nothing happened, (Not sure what I expected) except I wondered what to do with her. So, I immediately went to my computer and placed an ad on Kijji. under arts and collectibles, because I didn't think she would qualify as a toy and you are only allowed one category I learned.
Mrs. Beasley doll in original box. Doll from 1960's made popular from TV show Family Affair. Perfect condition. Voice box functional. Re-issued in 2000. Suitable for personal collection or gift giving. Help bring back someone's happy childhood memories.
Three weeks pass and I decided to pull the ad and keep the doll. Then I noticed an email Subject: response to your Mrs. Beasley ad.
So, I opened it expecting it to be a collector, a flea market vendor perhaps. I tell myself I will not let her go for less than she is worth.
Through a series of phone calls and emails that follow I learn he is not a vendor at all, but a gentleman from NL of all places. (This is where I enjoyed my Mrs. Beasley as a child).
"Me and me daughter have been searching for a this doll for the wife for a long while now", I heard in that familiar comforting accent.
"Yeah, she loved this doll when she was a youngster".
"She was so sad after having lost her when her grandmother died and the family home was sold".
"Ah, I know the feeling". I say.
He further explains where his wife is from and as it turns out we are from around the same area and we are about the same age.
I am moved again, and know this is where my doll belongs now.
I offer to wrap the doll before I send it off to the Rock because he has told me it is a Christmas gift.
"No" he explains, "Me daughter and I are going to wrap it in three big boxes."
He tells me also that I have made his daughter very happy and that his wife will be so excited.
At this point I just want to send the doll. I no longer care about the money (I had already gotten much more than she was "worth") but my aunt in NL who assists me in completing the transaction reminds me I actually do care about that.
I magically found the exact right box, the exact packing and I included a note for the new owner (With the buyer's permission)
So, next day off Mrs. Beasleywent to the Rock via Sameday, for some other woman to enjoy, for some other woman to open on Christmas morning, to be moved as she remembers her own doll, her beloved grandmother and as she appreciates her husband's thoughtfulness and sees the joy on her daughter's face.
I feel good about this one. And, even better...I myself, let go of so many things the moment I sealed that box!