Commentary by Christy Solo
When I was working on last week’s Rogue I had to dig through some boxes to find my Half Dome tee. As it happens 99.9% of the time, I found lots of other non-tee things during my search.
One of those things was the pictured material. I’ll tell you the story behind it.
Fun fact: When I was born my mom really wanted me to be a girl, as did my paternal grandmother. However, they were both convinced I was going to be “another” boy (my dad was one of three boys, then mom had my older brother).
Mom was so convinced she was having another boy that when the doctor made the post-delivery “it’s a girl!” announcement, Mom replied “Are you sure?”
I remained the only girl on my dad’s side of the family for 19 years.
To say my family put a “bit” too much energy and thought into planning my future is the understatement of the century.
The year I turned three, two things happened. First my parents built their first home. They’d been saving a long time (my brother was considerably older than me) and the house was full of nifty custom and personal design bits.
My parent’s bedroom was on the second floor, and it had a “Snow White” balcony (so named by Mom) which overlooked the sunken living room below.
Why did they build this balcony, you ask?
It was built solely for me to toss my bouquet from after my wedding. Yup. Y’all I was THREE.
Meanwhile, that same year my paternal grandmother (recently widowed) took off on an extensive cruise in and around Asia (all of it). While there she bought a gazillion things, furniture, porcelain figures, clothes, shoes, bags and silk material. So much silk material.
My mom had a dozen dresses which she sewed from stunning silks and silk brocades that Grandma brought back from that trip.
One dress, however, was never created.
The extravagant silk in the photos was purchased for me by my grandma, and it was the material for my wedding dress. I. Was. THREE.
It gets weirder.
I did not set eyes on the box or contents until after Mom died in 2012 and I was going through the hope chest (ironic, eh?) in my parents’ living room in Trail. There it was, three layers down in that silver box with “For Christine, Love Grandmother” written on it.
Upon opening the box, I immediately knew what that material was (to have been for). Because my entire life Mom had told me, “Your grandmother bought the silk for your wedding gown” on that cruise, but I was never given the box. It was kept quite well hidden.
Like a silken Sword of Damocles it hung over my head but was never before my eyes.
Why Mom didn’t give it to me when I moved out or when I moved to Colorado or when I actually got married will forever remain a mystery.
I can only suppose that because I was married in a civil ceremony it was “No silk for you!”
