My mother died several years ago at the grand age of 92, the end of a life well lived. She was not a big spender or a collector so sifting and sorting her possessions was relatively easy for my sister, Maggie, and I. There was nothing of any significant monetary value and the grandchildren and great grandchildren had no interest in things they considered as old-fashioned. Neither Maggie nor I are very sentimental, so we saved only a few of her possessions as keepsakes.
As a young woman, mother loved clothes and especially liked to dress in ways that were a little different and creative. She made some of her own clothing and I remember she told me once that she wanted to be a fashion designer but simply did not have the opportunity. Instead she worked at a local store doing customer alterations until she married.
(my fashionable mother)
Those were the times when people did what they needed to do to survive and dreams mostly went unfilled. And yet also today, many dreams are not realised, even for those who are immensely talented. We recently watched the movie, "Twenty feet from stardom", about back-up singers. The performers in this excellent documentary were amazing singers most of whom would have liked to have become stars. Their talent was not in question but somehow they remained in the background. The lead singer of the group Sting spoke of how it is not just about talent but also about opportunity, luck and many other factors that have nothing to do with how good a voice is.
We all have dreams but many of us also need to allow a back-up plan to develop, just in case our dreams do not manifest. If we are not able to release, grieve, let go and move on from these unfulfilled dreams then we are often caught in regret and bitterness, unable to open ourselves up to making a life that is meaningful in ways we previously did not imagine. I wanted to be a physician from early childhood but it did not happen. Instead I became initially a research scientist, which also did not go the way I had hoped, and then retrained to be a clinical psychologist, a profession I knew nothing about when I ended my scientific career. I've loved it and this plan C was something I had no dream or vision about earlier in my life.
After mother married she continued to make clothes mostly for Maggie and I, when we were children, and even made outfits for my dolls, to my great delight. Eventually she opened a wool and drapery store and began to use her love of and talent for fashion with considerable success. She was not a fashion designer but a plan B offered her an enjoyable and meaningful career, just as it did for me.
But I have digressed from the story of the furs. Mother and Father married in the late thirties on the day after Christmas and she wore a lovely short white fur jacket over her wedding dress. After her death we discovered she had kept that fur, together with a brown waist length fur cape, both in remarkably good condition. Mother was a rather slightly built woman but she produced much larger children. The furs were much too small for any of the family and in addition everyone considered furs as politically incorrect in this day and age. Nobody wanted the furs but I could not bear to part with them so when I returned to the U.S.A. I packed them in my suitcase and brought them home. Then, like mother, I hung them unused in the closet.
This year I took them to the furriers to see if there was a way to use the two pieces to make one wearable item. After examining them, the owner of the store told me that the furs were not of a high enough quality to make the restoration worthwhile. I was disappointed and sad but glad about his honesty. As I was leaving the store I turned and asked him if he knew of anyone who might appreciate the furs. He suggested that I donate them to a local university theater department, which I was immediately excited about. It felt right.
When I took them to the drama department at a nearby university, I was directed to the costume area. The staff were thrilled to have these well preserved pieces from the 1930's and assured me that they would have "stage time". I told them that they had belonged to my mother and that she had worn the white rabbit fur jacket on her wedding day. They were attentive to my story and empathic when I became a little teary. After I had handed over my precious package I looked around the large room where costumes from various eras were being designed, altered, mended and readied for upcoming productions. I realised that Mother would have loved working there and it felt as if her furs had found the right home. I do hope she agrees.
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