After an eight-year quest, I finally found a makeup vanity table at a garage sale that would fit well in my closet. It's perfect! It has a lovely bench, a small drawer in the center, the correct height, and perfect for completely overhauling with gaudy paint and decoupage as I like to do. I've always wanted a vanity of my own, and not just for the fact that I will have somewhere to sit when I put on makeup.
I don't have many memories of my mom, sadly. I was young when she passed and the things I do remember are trivial and small. I've always mourned the lack of memories as well the lack of her. But one thing I do remember is that she sat in our bathroom's vanity table with a lighted mirror to put on her makeup. She had an old wooden chair with a paisley blue cushion on it, with a drawer in the center full of makeup. I used to watch her put on makeup and fix her hair the way all girls watch their moms. Turns out my daughter is no different.
After getting my makeup in place at my new vanity table, I perched on my new/old pretty bench and assumed the position for prime makeup-putting-on-ing. Mid-powdering, I hear tiny footsteps behind me. It took all of three seconds for Mia to make herself at home on my already-crowded stool. But she was so darn cute sitting there with my eyeshadow brush, pretending to put on makeup, and looking up at me as daughters do, just happy to be like Mommy. And it donned on me that this is it. She's making the memories with me that I made with my mom. This is her childhood as she will remember it. But, God-willing, she will be able to make so many more memories in the years to come.
This got me thinking about all the memories that I never had with my mom. So many. Too few. It's not fair. I know I tell my son that saying "it's not fair" is not allowed, but seriously. It's. Not. Fair. I never got to tell my mom about my first boyfriend or go shopping for prom dresses. I never had "the talk" or the other talk about periods and womanhood. She wasn't there for my graduation. I will never have the memory of her holding my kids as a proud grandma. It's. Not. Fair.
But, I did have the uncomparable experience of having a second mom, Peg. She was there for all the things that my mom couldn't. And my memories are of Peg orchestrating the talks, trials, and triumphs of typical teenager drama. She was there for both of my babies. She was there for my return from Iraq. She was there.
What will I be there for with Mia? I can't wait to have all the mother/daughter memories. Baking cookies, playing dress-up with her dollies, crying over a broken heart, shopping, long talks, traditions, dances, proms, birthdays, college dorms, buying a wedding dress. I'm sad because I don't have the priveledge of remembering these events with my mom. But I'm so thrilled that I get to do them with Mia. And they all started with a garage sale vanity table.