Becca & the "Doll Hospital"

Let me start here. When I was two years old I was gifted a baby doll named, Becca. She had blue eyes that open and shut, a cloth mid section, plastic limbs, hair and pursed lips. She came in a pink dress with lace trimming and she was GLUED to me at all times. When I would stay with friends, Becca came. When I stayed at any grandparents house, Becca came. When I went to daycare, Becca came. When I was a flower girl in my aunt and uncles wedding, Becca came. When I started Kindergarten, Becca came with my name written across her backside. When I graduated high school my parents made sure that, Becca came. I had Becca for a very, very long time. 

When I was about 8 years old - my mom told me it was time to send Becca to the, "doll hospital." Her eyelashes were gone, her hair was one giant dread and our dog had chewed off two of her fingers. So my mom talked me into sending her to my Nonna & Nonno's house because they knew someone who fixed dolls.  I hesitantly sent her away not knowing how long she would be gone. A couple weeks later we were at my sister's birthday party. Nonna walks in and calls me over and I am presented with a clean/crisp Becca. I was shocked. I remember being semi embarrassed because I was tearful over a babydoll in front of some of my friends, but they knew how much this babydoll meant to me. They were just as excited to see this clean baby doll as I was. I mean she was a lil bit scary before this. This Becca was clean, no more matted hair, my name was removed off her backside and she had eyelashes. At 8 years old, I was a tiny bit  skeptical on how she got so clean, but I trusted that my parents and grandparents truly sent her to the hospital. I mean after all Nonna, told me all about her friend who did this and what all they did to get her fixed. So what was there not to believe. 

Fast forward 17 years and it is time for me to get married. I spent so much time trying to figure out what to gift my mom on my wedding day and I couldn't think of anything. One day I saw Becca in a box in my closet, just where I left her. I knew then that I would give my mama Becca. But, I wanted to send her to the, "doll hospital." She had matted hair, messed up eyes and the dress was long gone. I knew that I wouldn't be able to send her off to anyone who repairs and couldn't ask because the secret would be blown. So I took her to the spa I as working at and the girls there did the very best they could. I put her in the dress she wore when she served as a flower girl with me and I could not wait to see my mamas face when she opened her! But Amy (mama) threw me a fast one, like she does. She stood up and gave this lil speech about how she has held onto this since I was two years old. She talked about how growing up you didn't see me without holding this. Being very vague, I knew exactly what she talking about but my brain went into panic because I was unsure how she had Becca. I HAD Becca in my room. Then she walked out of the room and walked back in with brand new in the original box Rebecca doll. The $9.99 Toys R Us sticker still on the box. I took the Rebecca box, motioned for my friend, who was already on her way to get it and then placed MY Becca in my mom's arms. We both shouted, giggled and cried because how in the whole world did we both gift each other Becca. 

Becca hasn't been discussed much over the years. I mean she would come up in conversations about memories or when I am cleaning out Francos closet. I have the packaged (stranger)  Rebecca doll in the top of his closet and my mom has the OG Becca in her closet. She's never really brought up, I mean I have boys so we dont really talk about baby dolls around here. 

But today, I was at my Nonna and Nonno's house. I went down to help my parents start going thru some stuff. Endless hours of going thru things. When she passed I didn't take much, I took a blue dish towel that hung in her kitchen that reads - "Nonna's Kitchen." & I took a locket with a baby picture of me that we found in her closet . So going back down there, I was not sure what I wanted from her house. I know I want the macramé light that hangs in the dining room, she promised me that when I was 16. But really what could I take that would remind me of her. I couldn't take the ocean, or the boogie board, I couldn't take her old Buick town car or her cooking. I had a few things set aside -some batteries from Nonno's dresser and a clock for Miguel and a harmonica for Franco. Nothing from her closet was jumping out at me - but then I found her old Christmas sweater.  I did not think much of it. I mean I thought it would be cute to have but I went back and forth - I think I even asked my mom if I needed it and she said, "why not?"  So I put it in my pile. Later on, we got into Nonno's office and my gosh at the stuff, papers&pictures and papers&pictures. We put all of those things in the living room so we could go thru them on a rainy day. What seemed to be hour 76 of cleaning the office -  my dad stood on a ladder to get stuff off the top shelf of his desk. He opened a bag and giggled, he passed me the bag and said - "here, this is yours." 

Now before I go any further, I need to note some things. 

1. I had not shed a tear the entire time I was there. I promised myself I'd compartmentalize and process later. It was the only way we would get things done. 

2. I had seen a doll that was 87 years old a little bit before and it was a jump scare, sorry Nonna. 

3. I am a private crier, I hate crying in front of people. Even my husband. I will literally go in my shirt. 

Now, I will carry on. My dad hands me a white garbage bag with dust on top. I say, "nope, I am not opening another baby doll." He said, "just open it." I opened it and pulled out my original dirty, matted hair, no eyelashes, missing two fingers, name on her backside Becca doll and in that very second  - I sobbed. I mean no tears being held back, did not go in my shirt. I looked up to tears rolling down my mama face. My mama grinned and said, "well here is the doll hospital." For 25 years my Nonna and Nonno have had my Becca doll hidden. They never threw her away, they never gave her back to my parents, they never lost her. She sat safely at their house. Of course at 33 years old I was not upset that they all lied to me. I think in that very moment I felt a love that I will miss for ever. I felt my Nonna and Nonno in his office, in this raw moment. A few minutes later after our tears dried, my mom said - "let me call Memaw and see how many dolls she has in her closet." We called Memaw told her the story and she went to her closet, put us on FaceTime and showed us the dolls. She had three dirty, matted Becca dolls. 

My mom then looked at me and told me that when I was gifted this doll she and my granny called every Toys R Us in a 5 hour radius to see if they had them in stock. They went to one in Tallahassee and got all of their Becca dolls because they knew if I lost one it would be awful. So at 33 years old, I found out that there were 6 Becca dolls. I cried once again looking at the three dolls over FaceTime because again - I am a grown adult and still my grandparents were keeping such a pure and special thing safe for me and I did not even know it.

I felt like a little girl today. I felt such strong love today. I felt the love that I hope I am giving my boys.  

Oh and if you think its over, just wait. To top the Becca story off. My mama went in the living three hours later to straighten up the picture boxes before we left for the day. I am not kidding when I say there are at least 5,000 photos for us to go thru. I mean in the living room alone there were 6 giant tubs packed full. My mom decided to open one of the boxes, picked up a handful and guess what - in the pile of the pictures she randomly selected - pictures from when Nonna brought me Becca from the ,"doll hospital." And just guess what she was wearing, her Christmas sweater that I'd put in my box a few hours ago. 

I literally was shocked. I just kept saying, "how in the world." 

My mama said: Your Nonna knew how much Becca meant to you and she wanted to be a part of this today. 

So today on July 18, my Nonna visited me. 

                                     

                                                     

                                          

My Nonna

 Nonna - 

I could tell you one million stories of my Nonna. I know that when I am old and grey that I will be sharing stories of my Nonna with my grandkids. I will hear them say, "we know --- and Nonna said --- " I have been trying to gather the words to describe this season of life but all I can do is be flooded with memories. I wake up in the night and play another one and another one then I fall asleep with tears streaming down my face. I find myself heartbroken and hopeful in the same breath, I find myself ready for her to find peace and rest but then find myself wanting her to be healed and live until I am old and grey. My Nonna lost the love of her life in July of last year, since then it has been a rapid decline. Nonno knew something was coming, he moved them to my parents house a couple months before he passed. He knew that Nonna was slipping, her memory going quicker than we thought. She was his main caretaker for years and years. She waited on him around the clock and she never once complained, oh well let me take that back - the only time she complained was when she wanted him to get up and move because, "all he does is sit, sit, sit - I need to see movement," she would say in her thick Italian accent. 

Nonno knew that when he passed Nonna needed to be somewhere safe and so he moved them here. And Nonna has been here since, she's gone to visit her home in Florida a couple times but she can't stay alone. She is unable but you tell that woman she can't do something and she's going to show you. The other day she stood up walked towards the back door, looked at my dad and said - "bye Chris I am going to be with my Neapolitan people, you can follow me with this if I must have it." Pointing to her oxygen tank like it was a carry on. My dad giggled looked at my mom, shook his head and simply said, "mom, come sit back down please they are too far away, we can see them later." Im telling you she is stubborn. She was walking down the busiest street in our town four weeks ago, we would tell her to come inside and she would yell at us - "I grew up in Italy walking everywhere, I am a city minded woman, I am just fine." We couldn't say anything back - so my parents would sit on the porch and watch her to make sure she was safe. We have been calling this Nonna - Nonna 2.0 because this Nonna is keeping us all on our toes. Alzheimer's is a terrible, terrible disease and I wouldn't wish it on a soul. 

Now before we get into the Nonna memories that I have been playing in my head for days now, let me tell you that our time with Nonna is coming to an end. We do not know her timeline, we know that hospice has been called in. We know that she is sadly filling with fluid - Nonna loves to tell the story about how Yahweh healed her form cancer when I was a baby, I was just born and the doctor removed her kidney and she came to meet me. When she tells this story its made to sound like the came to my birth 2 hours post op, but it was a few weeks. Needless to say, she has once kidney and there has never been an issue until recently. She has always and will always be the healthiest person I know. She recently got pneumonia and it took off quickly. I do not want this to become a medical post because the medical things are making my head spin, but what you need to know is that one minute she is fine and the next she is touching heaven. The other night she laid in bed - saluted Nonno and told him that she would see him soon. The next night she was speaking only in Italian and speaking to her father. She is ready in every sense, but then she's not. She sees us and sees the kids and then she begs to stay, I hear her praying for her body to be healed. It's been the most difficult two weeks of my life, I can say that with certainty. It feels like I am walking in a cloud - not sure what to expect or how to expect it. So now that I have given you all of those boring nasty medical/sad facts let's get to the good part, the part that Nonna wants to hear.

When I was a little girl my parents would take me to Nonna and Nonno's house to stay for a week or so in the summer time. They lived 20 minutes from the ocean and she cooked homemade meals. My parents were sending me to the best summer camp a girl could ask for. When I was there I had 3 cousins from Georgia who would come and stay too - and let me go ahead and tell you this, by the end of summer we could make a bed better than the Hilton, we could set the table for the Queen and we could wash dishes better than the dishwasher ever dreamed. 

On beach days we would all wake up early excited for the beach- duh. I was 7, which makes the others 13, 13 and 12 . We would wake up, MAKE OUR BEDS, eat our bowl of Cheerios and then get on our swimsuits. We would then clean the kitchen, pack our sandwiches, pack our water in the big red thermos and then we would apply sunscreen knowing good and well that our hopes were too high we would be reapplying sunscreen again before we left for the beach. If there is one thing to know about this beautiful Italian woman it is that she is going to take at least two hours to get ready even if it was just for the beach day. We would be ready, packed, reapplying sunscreen for the second time and then we would draw straws on who was going to ask her if she was ready. We were only drawing straws because we knew the answer, we would quote it walking down the hallway to her bedroom - "I am coming, I am coming, I am coming, I have to brush my hair and then I am done." Knowing she in fact was not coming yet. Finally when she was dressed, she would run thru the living room - tell our oldest cousin to go crank the Buick and blast the AC. Then without hesitation she would rush us to the car as if we had not just applied sunscreen three time waiting on her. We would get in the car, oldest in the front and the other three in the back seat, she would crank up Carman - Do I Do and we were on our way. 

As an adult I physically cannot imagine taking 4 kids to the beach by myself, but she did it. She grew up on the ocean in Naples Italy - "street, rocks, ocean." it's what we have been told our entire life. The ocean was her friend, the ocean was her second home - so taking four kids was nothing. I vividly remember looking in the rearview mirror on beach days and seeing her talking, in between songs you could hear her praying in the spirit, that's how she did it - how she did beach days with four kids. 

We would get to Dunes of Panama, park in our spot, put our lunch box and red thermos under the pavilion by the pool and we would head down to the ocean. Now, this was not a chill ocean time - this was full on swim camp and boogie board camp. I proudly tell people that I learned how to swim in the ocean, my Nonna taught me. We would be in the ocean for hours, HOURS. There was no time for sunbathing or sandcastles - this woman meant we were swimming in the ocean and we never, ever wanted to get out when it was time to go. We always ended our beach days at the pool, we would go up to the pavilion we had reserved hours before - sit down and eat our cold turkey and cheese sandwiches on sourdough bread, we would pass the family bag of Doritos and the red thermos of ice cold water - then she would cut an apple for us to each have a couple slices. I can still taste the water from the red thermos. After an hour in the pool we would get back in the Buick, the leather seats burning our first layer of skin off - Nonna would crank the car and blast Carman, I would look in her rearview mirror and I would see her praying in the spirit again. 

We would get home, all take our showers, cook a full dinner, sit around the perfectly made table, we would hold hands, Nonno would ask the blessing - say, "buon appetite," lean over and kiss Nonna and then we would all share stories about our beach day. After dinner we would all clean the kitchen - one putting away leftovers, one cleaning off the table, one washing and one drying. Then we would all sit in the living room have a bowl of rocky road ice cream and watch I Love Lucy while Nonna rolled her hair. 

I am telling you - The best summer camp a girl could dream of.

These stories of Nonna could last forever - when I was a little girl I would get scared in the night. I would sneak into her bedroom, go over to her side of the bed and tell her I was scared. If Miguel does this now, I scoot over and let him get in the bed with us, but not Nonna - she would get out of bed walk me down the hallway and in to the living room, she would turn on the lamp look me in the eyes and say, "there is nothing but ministering angels in this house," then she would walk me around the entire house saying the same sentence over and over, asking me to say the same thing. Telling me that there as nothing to fear. She would then walk me to my bedroom, we would say the prayers again and she would rub my hand until I fell asleep. 

When I would get up in the night thirsty - she would walk me to the kitchen, turn on the light above the sink fix me a glass of water and say shhhh as she ran her hand from the top of my head to the tip of my toes as if the water was traveling inside my body. She would take my glass, kiss my head and say - "okay body you are not thirsty anymore." She would walk me to my bedroom, we would say the prayers again and she would rub my hand until I fell asleep. 

Nonna and Nonno had an old radio/stereo in the living room - when we were getting ready for the beach or cooking dinner she would play 98.5 and this was back in the day when Savage Garden was a thing. Well you remember that old song 'I wanna stand with you on a mountain. I wanna bathe with you in the sea. - you know what I am talking about. Now imagine this, an Italian woman with a thick thick accent singing this song and making up a dance with me, her 8 year old granddaughter. We did the dance so many times one summer that it's a core memory for the both of us, I know for a fact that on a good day we could still preform and sing it. 

I am telling you endless memories and I haven't even touched the ones of her praying over us and calling us because she felt the holy spirit telling her to call. And calling at the exact moment we needed. Knowing that I could walk in her house (I did this once bc I was in town documenting a birth, I was there until 1am) I called her when I was on my way to her house to sleep and we both giggled while we made turkey and cheese sandwiches at 1:30 in the morning. 

My Nonna isn't doing good. 

I am not doing good. 

We are not doing good. 

-

But let me tell you what we know. 

We know that when its time she is going to beam to heaven 

We know that she is going to meet her Yahweh face to face

We know that we will miss her laugh and her thick Italian accent forever 

We know that every Christmas we will make cartellate and I will hear her say - Callie you were 2 years old and we couldn't find you and you snuck into the dining room to steal a cartellate

We know that every memory made with her is so delicate and precious

We know that this season of not knowing when but soon is coming to an end 

We know that she loves her children, her grandchildren and her great grandchildren so very much

& for those who know Nonna know this one - We KNOW that if it wasn't for her, none of us would be here.

The One Where Miguel Gets Rid of His Paci

While we were at Disney World recently my mama told me something I will hold onto the rest of my life- she said, 'Miguel does not know what he is missing, you do. He is loving every single second of this and not listing the things he is not getting to do.' This topic was hot off the press as I was drying my tears on Main Street because my birthday boy fell asleep seconds before the parade approached the spot we had been melting in for 35 minutes. I remember feeling so defeated too many time this trip because I, like my mother, live for the big moments. A friend told me once that I love to create moments, it is true. I really, really do - but since becoming a mama I have allowed that to almost rob me of the authentic moments. 

I knew on Miguel's birthday we would be giving Mickey Mouse his paci, it was something we have talked about for months - 'Miguel who are you giving your paci to? - Icky Mouse he would say with excitement. Then the time came, we were at Disney on his birthday to celebrate him turning three years old, him becoming a big brother and truthfully any reason to go - we find it. Anyways, we walked into the place on Main Street to meet the mouse. Miguel had his paci in a little gift baggie. He held it the entire 45 minutes that we waited to hand it off. I explained to a cast member what we were going to do - he seemed to understand and said that would be fine (because I would be leaving with the paci, obviously) I just needed the mouse to take it from my three year old who was passing it off willingly. We got inside, Miguels eyes lit up - He was seeing the mouse, his bestie, MICKEY MOUSE. He took the bag and tried four times to hand it to him and the mouse shook his hands - I looked at the cast member confused and upset, but I grabbed the bag shoved it in my pocket and said, "Mickey says thank you, he will get it soon." I smiled with tears in my eyes for the picture and then guess what - we were too close to the mouse and he pushed us away, looked at us and motioned for us to scoot over. The cast member who stood by the new photo box, did not use his words in communicating a single thing other than 1...2....3.... say cheese. Homie, I will NOT be cheesing at this point. I am upset that this moment I dreamt of was taken because nobody paid attention. I walked out, my husband asked my son what he did and with the biggest smile he said, "I gave my paci to Ickey Mouse like a big boy." He did not know any of the awkward things that had just transpired, but boy did I. I took myself over to the wall of ears and ugly cried, my 24 week pregnant self ugly cried in front of the wall of Mickey Mouse ears because we just, 'gave his paci,' to the rudest mouse I'd ever met in my whole life. Y'all I literally messaged customer service on the app - "WHERE DO I COMPLAIN ABOUT A MEETING WITH THE MOUSE?" was the topic. I laugh about it now, but boy did I have to make some jokes to get through that one. 

That night we had reservations at Chef Mickey and I refused to get in trouble by a mouse or any of his pals - so I was anxious about standing up to take pictures/interact with the characters. We found out that we could in fact interact with the characters and it was the best thing! My baby boy got to meet all of his pals. He loves Goofy and watching him admire him was the greatest moment. 

That's the thing. Chef Mickey was something we booked a week before we got there. It was not something that I had time to butcher with my expectations. It was something that I did not play over and over in my head or worry about getting the perfect picture to remember the moment. It just happened and those are the memories I will carry forever. Obviously, the rude mouse will be something I never forget, but the nice Mickey an hour later will be the bittersweet prefect ending to my baby boy's third birthday. He even got a birthday cake and Donald Duck helped sing Happy Birthday, then Miguel and his cousin Addie went face first in the cake because why not?! 

--- 

I didn't get a pictures of him eating a cupcake in front of the castle.

I didn't get a the perfect paci pass off. 

I didn't get the ideal weather. 

I didn't get to show him the fireworks at Epcot.

I didn't get to take him to Animal Kingdom.

I didn't get him a balloon because he told me he didn't want one.

I didn't get to take him to watch Frozen.

but

We did get to take him to Disney World. 

We did give his paci to Mickey Mouse.

We did get to see Tinker Bell fly.

We did ride Buzz Lightyear 5 times.

We did ride Goofy Train (Mickey and Minnies Runaway Railroad) 5 times.

We did get him any toy he asked for (Birthday Disney Giftcards)

We did have dinner with Mickey and his pals.

We did ride the monorail.

He did get to ride his first roller coaster with his daddy.

We did get him a StormTrooper mask.

He did get to ride Little Mermaid with his Mamey.

He did sing, "In Summer," WITH OLAF.

So many fun things. At the end of the day we asked Miguel what his favorite part of the day was and it was one of the things listed above. Then Alejandro and myself would ask each other and it was also something listed above. That's the thing - none of those moments were planned, all authentic moments that I never could have planned. 

I love Disney World for this reason, I always have and I always will. Those magical moments happen when we least expect them. So CalPal, needs to loosen up and stop trying to force moments.