A Week Of Rescue

                           A Week Of Rescue

I expect this will be a difficult week for me.  It is four years ago this week that I lost one of my sisters.  This year I decided to use my vintage passion to rescue my soul from the usual grief that resides there.

I love to remember when we were little, and how we would spend hours playing with "kiddles"  Anyone remember those? I no longer have my kiddles, but I have managed to find plenty of them on Etsy. Gazing at those little dolls on my computer makes me smile. It makes me remember.

One Christmas, my sister was given a tape recorder. She decided that we would act out her favorite Archie comic books while recording our dialog. As you may have guessed, with Kerry being a year older, the role of Veronica went to her.  I usually had to be Jughead, or Archie or Hotdog.  Hey, at least she was playing with me, right?  We would laugh our heads off, listening to our voices on tape, and at our attempts at "acting."  Years later, as a high school student, she would have starring roles in many of the school plays. As an adult, she would act in several theater productions in Portland, and even a few t.v. commercials.  I guess being Veronica had its benefits.

Another game Kerry created for us was called "Advertising Agency" This involved creating slogans for products, and then putting them in our "magazine."  She was Mary Tyler Moore. I think I was Lou Grant. Or Ted. Or maybe I was Murray.  Oh well, whoever I got to be, it was a lot of fun.  I always admired her imagination.

Our birthdays were just two days apart. One year, we were both given Disney watches. I got the Alice in Wonderland one, and she got a Cinderella one. They were so pretty, and we loved to wear them. Besides the fact that they were birthday gifts, we were also supposed to use them to come home for dinner on time.  We played with neighbors up the street every day, and we seemed to have a major problem with remembering to get home by dinnertime.  One evening, shortly after we got our watches, we blew it again. We were at least a half hour late!  As we hurried home, my sister came up with the brilliant idea of setting our watches back an hour. That way, we could simply smile our cute, innocent little smiles and say "But, it wasn't our fault. Our watches must be wrong! We left right on time!"  I thought she was a genius.  

So, this week, I'm going to spend a whole lot of time looking at all of the vintage stuff that take me back to our family house, that take me back to her.  Because I miss her.  Vintage will rescue me.