Once a Girl Always a Girl
A few days before Christmas my husband and I volunteered to wrap presents for a toy drive at the Floyd Rescue Squad. Inside the station there were wrapping supplies on one table and a pile of toys on another. We weren’t long into cutting, wrapping, and taping before the child in me came out. The dolls in particular made me giddy. There were baby dolls, Barbie dolls, dolls with dishes, horses, and hair brushes. Some dolls talked when you squeezed them, others had eyelashes that could flutter. There were plastic dolls, soft stuffed dolls, and stocking stuffer dolls.
“Look at this one! I would have loved to have this,” I exclaimed and then announced to my husband, “I want to wrap all the dolls, okay?”
He smiled, enjoying my sense of play. I understood pretty quickly that wrapping the dolls appealed to my inner child, but it wasn’t until later in the day that the full scope of how meaningful the activity was became apparent to me.
At the age of four, I had a very special favorite baby doll that got left at my Aunt and Uncle’s summer cabin in Cape Cod. 
By the time I realized my doll was left behind, my family was already too far down the road, headed for home. I remember the intensity of my feelings as I cried for my doll. Caring for it was something I took very seriously. I can see how much I loved the doll when I look at the rare old photograph of me with it. One such photo that I’ve recently had blown up and copied is pinned to my office bulletin board. In it, I’m beaming, wearing a wool snow suit and a matching wool hat trimmed in fur and standing proudly next to the baby carriage I used to push my doll in.
Crying didn’t get my doll back. I remember rocking hard against the back of the car seat on the ride home from the Cape and vowing to never forget. But I did forget, at least consciously. By the time the left-behind doll reappeared a month or two later, the weather had changed to cold and the doll was almost unrecognizable to me. Months being like years to child, the bond had been broken, my baby carriage left empty too long. I don’t remember ever playing with the doll again, and I never got attached to another one in the same way.
As an adult, I’ve been able to piece together the larger significance that the loss of that doll held for me. 
It was symbolic of the two occasions in my infancy that I was separated from my mother (and all my family members) for extended amounts of time. Leaving the baby doll behind when I was four years old was a recreation of me being left behind. No wonder it hurt so much.
I wrapped about 15 dolls at the Rescue Squad Station while thinking about the little girls who would be receiving them. It was probably the most meaningful activity I did this Christmas season. Not only was it like an hour of unplanned therapy, it was also the embodiment of Christmas spirit because in wrapping those dolls for other little girls I received much more than I gave.
December 25th, 2006 9:58 pm
Wow, Colleen, don’t you love it when you get insights like this one? Thanks for sharing. 🙂
Merry Christmas!
Susan
December 25th, 2006 11:01 pm
I miss playing with dolls too!!!
Merry Christmas and much love today and always. xox
December 25th, 2006 11:32 pm
When my younger daughter was about 2, we joined mr. kenju for a business trip in the summer. After leaving the motel to come home, we discovered, about 20 miles from home, that she had left her favorite doll in the motel. A frantic phone call there turned up nothing, and we resigned ourselves that the motel housecleaner had probably gone home with a doll that day. My baby learned a harsh lesson, and while I hoped it would make her more observant and careful of her belongings – it didn’t. Now 33 years later, she is still losing things. I am not sure what the lesson is here – but you brought back some memories! Hope you and Joe had a great Christmas!
December 26th, 2006 2:55 am
I can remember specific dolls from my childhood. They are long gone but still in my memories. When Nyssa was about 8 I heard of the company My Twin. They make dolls to look like the little girls. You chose the hair color, eye color and send a picture and the doll arrives and the resemblance is uncanny. She took hers everywhere and I made them matching pantsuits. One trip to Virginia Nyssa and her twin doll wore them…. the looks and double takes she got in the airport were funny.
I knew of one lady whose husband took one of her childhood pictures and had such a doll made for her for Christmas. She said it was the best Christmas present ever from him.
December 26th, 2006 6:36 am
There is nothing like volunteer work, especially for the less fortunate, to put things into perspective in this busy season. The giving experience enhances both the giver and the recipient. And you received an added bonus of free therapy! I hope you had a very Merry Christmas.
December 26th, 2006 11:39 am
It is so wonderful the way you are able to bring your daily experiences in growing and therapeutic times. We all should be more introspective…at least I should!
December 26th, 2006 11:52 am
I remember my little sister putting nail polish on my favorite baby and cutting off her hair….I don’t know how long I cried but that broke my bond to baby dolls. I still loved Barbie’s but that was my one true “realistic” baby doll and she ruined it for me.
What a wonderful thing for you to do! I hope your Christmas was full of good cheer, family and warmth!
December 26th, 2006 1:25 pm
I did go on to play with Barbies (and paper dolls). But like you Deana, the baby doll thing was over for me after losing that one.
December 26th, 2006 2:47 pm
very nice post!!
December 26th, 2006 9:16 pm
Michele sent me back, Colleen. My youngest granddaughter got a Bitty Baby for christmas; the baby version of American Girl dolls. It pleases me to see her playing with babies instead of Barbies, of which I have never been fond.
December 27th, 2006 12:42 am
What a wonderful poignant story, Colleen….it is amazing that by the time you got your doll back it was almost ALL but forgotten…but, not really…Oh the pain of leaving her behind…! How lovely that you and Joe did what you did this Christmas…and you got a twofold reward for doing it!
December 27th, 2006 6:18 am
I always have to make sure my girls get at least one doll under the tree, whether it is barbie or an actual doll. I have no clue why but it is a MUST. This year, for the first time in a VERY long time I received a cabbage patch newborn doll and was very touched by it. See, I’m also pregnant so it means even more to me. It is amazing what a doll will do to a woman.
December 27th, 2006 11:15 am
Funny how things all connect together, the loss of doll and abandonment fears. Luckily hurt does move on. I expect the passionate mommyhood towards the doll would have flagged on its own in a few months without the sharp loss. Pity it didn’t play out that way.
December 27th, 2006 11:28 am
I can so relate to this. We only had a few dolls in our childhood, so they were all very special. My mom made clothes for them from our clothes she made for us. I had Thumbelina, who looked and moved like a real baby, and Betsy-Wetsy, who wet when fed her bottle. Later, I got a doll who walked.
My maternal instinct was alive and it is ironic that I was never able to have kids,so I think it’s neat that I took such good “Motherly” care of my few dolls.
December 27th, 2006 12:32 pm
It may have been a Betsy Wetsy. That sounds familiar. It was rubber with brown curly hair that felt real. And Pearl is right, my attachment to it would have fallen away soon enough, but when she was left my whole play life revolved around her.
I think my sister had the walking doll. Remember Chatty Kathy?
December 27th, 2006 7:18 pm
Isn’t that the way it is… the gift is in the giving. I can just imagine the many happy faces on Christmas day when these dolls were unwrapped. 🙂
December 27th, 2006 10:40 pm
Colleen, this is a beautiful piece. As a father of three girls and a brother of two much younger sisters, I think I understand it. This is one my favorite reads on your blog this year.
I also love reading anything about your family because of my wife’s enormous Irish family (11 kids!) and because all the stories you shared in your book.
December 28th, 2006 1:30 am
good post, great work
December 28th, 2006 10:17 am
With your gift wrapping….I think you proved the significance of “giving to receive.” Great story.
December 29th, 2006 7:55 pm
I loved reading this Coll. I especially loved how the whole thing told a story about you and who you are. It’s amazing isn’t it? So much about our likes and dislikes….our passions and traits can all stem back to our childhood. I’ve often wondered why I love tradition so much and encourage it so but when you come right down to it as the youngest in the family I was the one who wanted to hang on to those things even as my siblings got older and married and left me. So now we know why things like this mean so much to me and why I encourage people to see the same value in them even if sometimes they don’t. Thanks for this. I feel like I just got therapy! xoxo
December 30th, 2006 10:36 pm
Oh Colleen, I’m so glad you told your doll story! I don’t think I’ve ever read a more beautiful description of the bond a little girl feels for her one special doll–and how traumatic it can be when that is broken.