“I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”
― Albert Einstein
I remember a box at grandmothers filled with dresses, white, cream, blue and green.
I remember being able to escape as I fell into a world of imagination, as I put on those dresses and became a Princess, a Grande Lady at the Ball, or a Queen.
I remember feeling anything was possible while in those dresses, that magic was real, that someday I would be my own person, that someday I would fly away, unseen.
I remember having to say goodbye to those dresses, board a plane to far away lands, living as if in the in between.
I remember crying myself to sleep, wishing myself back to grandmothers, back to those dresses in a box, back to being a princess laughing and dancing.
I remember moments of escape – playing with a scarf, swirling, twirling as nightmares roam the edges waiting.
I remember joy filling my heart as we boarded the plane back home, grinning at the thought of seeing the box again, the dresses and my next fitting.
I remember running out to the old play room, searching every nook and cranny, becoming more and more anxious as my heart felt like it was going to stop beating.
I remember the words so lightly tossed, of no consequence, they had been given away, or thrown away, long ago – turning around, tears falling.
I remember being grown, having a box of my own that will never disappear, will always be here for the grand babies… and me, playing.
#BiteSizeMemoir by Lisa Reiter at Sharing the Story prompt this week is dressing up. I am enjoying participating in Lisa’s lovely BiteSizeMemoir, I hope you decide to explore it for yourself. You never know what juicy tidbits you will remember, or triggered, from her prompts.
Please visit Lisa Reiter’s blog and the other participants. Do you have a dress up story?
I entered this into the #StoryDam Blog hop. Visit others in the writing community, share word love, and get to know each other better!
“Sometimes poets write what we wish we could say, and they tell us what we need to know. The poems in Wild Woman Waking lead us to a place where we can proudly refuse to be “bent and broken”; instead, they document a journey to self-acceptance, peace, and understanding – where in a community of women, we celebrate and dance as Mud Women. We become women of spirit and keepers of our own keys.” ~Beth Camp