I’m not a vintage toy collector. However, most of my two children’s really nice toys are stored in the basement, just in case I ever have grandchildren, or the now adult girls just want their old toys.
The reason I have never thrown out their toys is that my toys were all given away or thrown out.
Children of divorce will get the following story. One day, mom and dad go separate ways, remarry, and have no space. Out goes all your stuff. I really never minded too much, but my father took it too far.
He was a very negative influence on my life. He’s one of those dads that when asked what he would do different raising his children, will reply “I should have been tougher on them.” His children would agree he was more than tough enough. When he was married to wife number two, and there have been more since, he gave her children the box of Barbies that I had asked him to hold for me while I was in college. I came to visit to find all the Barbies, including clothing and vintage house, all wrecked and too well played with. His reasoning is too harsh to relate. Let’s just say he thought my odds of ever having a family to be very small.
Instead of following his prediction, I married and had two wonderful daughters. Daughters that never got to include my dolls in their own Barbie play. I didn’t mind too much, but I did mind Midge and Scooter. Midge, Barbie’s friend, and Scooter, friend of Skipper, were no longer part of the Barbie line up. Also I was known growing up as the girl that always brought Midge and Scooter to play Barbies. My little girlfriends loved it as they all wanted to be Barbie, and you can only have so many Barbies. Midge and Scooter were the best. I always loved red hair more than blonde. For many years my own hair was dyed red, and I know it was because of those dolls.
But they were long gone, and I couldn’t buy new ones.
I have a friend, Felicity, and she goes to Barbie conventions. She knows Barbie and has never outgrown her love for the doll and accessories. I mentioned to her, probably years ago, that I loved Midge and Scooter. Well, recently as readers might know, I have been undergoing treatment for RA which has been painful and slow in working. Arthritis is a disease that often needs years to get the medication to treat it just right. Ups and downs have followed, and I’m still an invalid most days.
So what appears in the mail, but a package from Felicity. I open it and begin to cry. I just don’t cry, I howl. A deep healing crying overtakes me for many minutes. In the package are Midge and Scooter, and they seem like childhood friends I never expected to see again, come home.
I never really knew how deep the wound was that was still inside me from my father just giving away what little bit of my childhood I had left. Other people have “this is my childhood home” or even parents that can share happy childhood memories with their adult children. I have some photographs that show how unhappy we really were, and why my brothers and I are so close today.
I’m fine, happily married with two wonderful adult daughters. But, having Midge and Scooter again has truly healed a wound that I didn’t know was still there.
It is truly healing to know that while my parent destroyed that bit of my childhood, I have a friend that restored it. Knowing that someone remembered my mentioning Midge and Scooter makes up for any rejection I felt so long ago.
Thank you Felicity. I will treasure these dolls forever, and if I ever have grandchildren, they will get to enjoy these dolls also. Meanwhile they happily are residing on old Barbie doll furniture from my own children’s childhood.