All Dressed Up

By

All Dressed Up
All Dressed Up

We rushed home Friday night. There was hair to curl, makeup to apply and dress shoes to dig out of the closet. No being late, her date would be here right on time, and she must be ready. This Friday night was special.

The curls were placed lovingly, one by one, with a hot iron, into her flaxen hair. I pulled it up high on top of her head and secured it with bobby pins. Only the front was loose in tiny ringlets to match the cascading curls on top. The mascara wand pulled long virgin lashes up into dark curls framing the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. A tiny bit of blush and candy colored pink lips, and then I tilted her chin up to survey my work. She looked beautiful. Not the little girl who wanted to play Barbie and Polly Pocket and babies anymore, but a beautiful young woman growing up entirely too quickly for her mama to believe.

She pulled the flowing yellow dress out of the closet. The top skirt was gossamer thin and soft and swirled gently above the floor as she walked. It fit her small figure perfectly. All it needed was that extra touch. I pulled her Great Grandma’s silver and cut stone bird necklace from my jewelry box and fastened it. Perfect. A spritz of perfume, high-heeled Mary Janes fastened on unsteady ankles, and she was ready.

There was a knock at the door. Her date had arrived. She was waiting to make her grand appearance. “Let me get her,” I replied with a grin and disappeared down the hall to fetch the princess, as her coach and prince were here to take her to the ball.

She walked with the grace of a woman into the living room and twirled for her date. He smiled, and I could see he had something hidden behind his back. She noticed it too, and when he lifted his arm he produced a beautiful corsage of tiny white rosebuds and baby’s breath to match his boutonniere. “For you,” he offered, and leaned down to strap it on her wrist.

I snapped pictures, watching the two of them, choking back a little wistful sigh. He looked handsome in his long coat and dark tie, his own blue eyes bright and sparkling as he twirled her once around the floor. “This is how it is supposed to be,” I thought to myself. This is what I’ve always wanted for her – these moments. “You look beautiful, Jade,” I heard him say; to which she replied, “Thank you, Daddy.”

He opened her door for her, and she climbed up into the big truck. They waved at me and then were gone off to the crepe paper decorated gymnasium full of other young ladies and men – and music. Dad and daughter, first dances, family as it should be regardless of how we sometimes get lost and forget. Because tomorrow it will be too late to make up for missing these moments and making memories, and they’ll be gone forever.

I stood there at the screen door for a few minutes just remembering the years I watched Jade dance on her Daddy’s feet, the nights we tried to teach the girls this dance or that dance, the slumber parties where little girls with squeaky voices made up dance routines to Brittany Spears’ first hit song, and I was a little sad to know so much had already passed and was just a faded memory.

I felt an arm go around my shoulders and a chin rest on the top of my head, “Ready to go eat, Mom?” I smiled and reached my hand up to rest on his arm; another reminder of fleeting childhood, as I promised to take my oldest son out to eat and then look for a new bed that could carry him through high school and on into college.

“I guess I’m ready, son.” And I guess I am, not just for dinner but for the inevitable first dates, first cars, first years at college and last goodbyes to childhood.

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  • All Dressed Up

    We rushed home Friday night. There was hair to curl, makeup to apply and dress shoes to dig out of the closet. No being late, her date would be here right on time, and she must be ready. This Friday night was special.

    The curls were placed lovingly, one by one, with a hot iron, into her flaxen hair. I pulled it up high on top of her head and secured it with bobby pins. Only the front was loose in tiny ringlets to match the cascading curls on top. The mascara wand pulled long virgin lashes up into dark curls framing the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. A tiny bit of blush and candy colored pink lips, and then I tilted her chin up to survey my work. She looked beautiful. Not the little girl who wanted to play Barbie and Polly Pocket and babies anymore, but a beautiful young woman growing up entirely too quickly for her mama to believe.

    She pulled the flowing yellow dress out of the closet. The top skirt was gossamer thin and soft and swirled gently above the floor as she walked. It fit her small figure perfectly. All it needed was that extra touch. I pulled her Great Grandma’s silver and cut stone bird necklace from my jewelry box and fastened it. Perfect. A spritz of perfume, high-heeled Mary Janes fastened on unsteady ankles, and she was ready.

    There was a knock at the door. Her date had arrived. She was waiting to make her grand appearance. “Let me get her,” I replied with a grin and disappeared down the hall to fetch the princess, as her coach and prince were here to take her to the ball.

    She walked with the grace of a woman into the living room and twirled for her date. He smiled, and I could see he had something hidden behind his back. She noticed it too, and when he lifted his arm he produced a beautiful corsage of tiny white rosebuds and baby’s breath to match his boutonniere. “For you,” he offered, and leaned down to strap it on her wrist.

    I snapped pictures, watching the two of them, choking back a little wistful sigh. He looked handsome in his long coat and dark tie, his own blue eyes bright and sparkling as he twirled her once around the floor. “This is how it is supposed to be,” I thought to myself. This is what I’ve always wanted for her – these moments. “You look beautiful, Jade,” I heard him say; to which she replied, “Thank you, Daddy.”

    He opened her door for her, and she climbed up into the big truck. They waved at me and then were gone off to the crepe paper decorated gymnasium full of other young ladies and men – and music. Dad and daughter, first dances, family as it should be regardless of how we sometimes get lost and forget. Because tomorrow it will be too late to make up for missing these moments and making memories, and they’ll be gone forever.

    I stood there at the screen door for a few minutes just remembering the years I watched Jade dance on her Daddy’s feet, the nights we tried to teach the girls this dance or that dance, the slumber parties where little girls with squeaky voices made up dance routines to Brittany Spears’ first hit song, and I was a little sad to know so much had already passed and was just a faded memory.

    I felt an arm go around my shoulders and a chin rest on the top of my head, “Ready to go eat, Mom?” I smiled and reached my hand up to rest on his arm; another reminder of fleeting childhood, as I promised to take my oldest son out to eat and then look for a new bed that could carry him through high school and on into college.

    “I guess I’m ready, son.” And I guess I am, not just for dinner but for the inevitable first dates, first cars, first years at college and last goodbyes to childhood.

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8 Responses to “All Dressed Up”

  1. JoyfulJessie says:

    What a sweet story. These wonderful moments of our children’s childhoods should always be so treasured, as this writer has clearly done. May I learn to laugh and love each moment with my own little gifts from God and never take them for granted. They grow too quickly.

  2. Rick Moran says:

    As a writer, I find Ms. Mikula’s style refreshing, as a Dad, I find it inspirational.

  3. s l powell says:

    very good , touged at my heart strings with memories

  4. Jim Spafford says:

    Ah yes, these are the moments that compose the notes to the great symphony of life. Great story Miss Mikula. I can see them twirling in my mind right now. If the book you are writing is half as good as this article, I can’t wait to rush out and buy it.

  5. Olivia Grayson says:

    This is a wonderful story for anyone who has struggled as mother with letting our children go and grow up. Great job, Mindi.

  6. Betty Green says:

    This is so sweet. I was all ready for some boy taking the girl to prom. And the son at the end is a nice touch, too. Reminds me of so many of the bittersweet memories of motherhood. Bravo, Ms. Mikula for sharing with us.

  7. Lauren Sierra Cook says:

    Oh wow.
    That was so super sweet.(:

  8. Dr. H. Dix says:

    Kelly, I love to shotgun my Chardonay! I usually keep my Chardonay by my lap next to the dog. He doesn’t mind. Although sometimes I mix my Chardonay with Vodka and Kerosene. Pretty tastey! Can I join your club?

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