French Princess

In some of what I have written before I have talked a little about how my parents struggled when I was growing up.  We lived in several different houses over the years as our family rode the waves of our household economy.  Sometimes were better than others but it wasn't until I was in the 8th grade that my parents finally began to purchase their own, new furniture.

Our family finances took a turn for the better when we were renting a house on Higgins Way.  We wound up buying that house but initially we moved into it "as is" and the room Linda and I got was clearly a boy's room.  The wallpaper showed the blue, yellow, red, and brown repetitive images of baseball and football scenes.  It took a while but we got used to it.

Linda and I shared a room most of our lives.  Lisa, five years younger, got her own room from the beginning and inherited my grandmother's beautiful furniture when she moved from her home in Sacramento.  She still has it.

Linda and I, on the other hand, shared a hodgepodge of unmatched pieces of hand-me-down dressers and bureaus.  One I remember was a dresser attached to a wardrobe, the door of which was completely unattached.  Whenever we wanted to get into it we pulled the entire door off and then just shoved it back into place when we were done.

My dad could be kind of impulsive.  It was not unusual during this period for him to walk out of the house, get into the car and come home with a new treasure - like our first color television which we got while living in this house. But when my parents came home from Sears one night and my mother announced that our dad had purchased new bedroom furniture for Linda and me, I was over the moon! I couldn't even begin to imagine how my life would change with brand new bedroom furniture.  How special I would feel!  Going to bed that night I was filled with the excitement of a five year old on Christmas Eve.

When my dad was out of earshot my mother took us aside and prepared us to be a bit disappointed.  He had selected the furniture himself and my mother had tried to steer him to something else, a little more grown up,  but he was adamant.  We are 14 and 15 but it mattered little to me what it looked like - it was new, and more importantly, it was built for girls.

I remember the day it arrived.  We were at school and I was distracted all day long.  When we finally got home my mother was standing at the door of our bedroom, waiting to see our reaction.  I remember clearly feeling like I was running and crawling to that door at the same time.  I can't tell you which I actually did but when I saw it I was caught up in a young girl's dream!

It was a set of French Provincial little girls' furniture and my mother needn't have been concerned.  I was ecstatic!  It was the most beautiful furniture I had ever seen - even if it wasn't.  We got two large dressers, a desk and a vanity!  The top of the vanity lifted up to reveal a mirror and a deep space to keep make-up, brushes, and all "beauty" goods.  Movie star dreams commenced!  I couldn't wait to sit at the elegant desk to do my homework.  The experience of studying math would be so - elevated!  Each piece was shiny new, smooth, no scratches.  Lovely, pristine, white and curvy, with gold accents, antiqued hardware, and plastic tops so they could be easily be kept clean.  I had left for school that morning as discombobulated as the furniture I had lived with for so many years but now, I was transformed into a sophisticated woman of the world!   It was so French and I was so in tuned with it!  It was so -- international!

My dad has always had the uncanny ability to choose gifts that suited each of us perfectly.  I remember so many of them: a toy "genie" in a glass bottle as an child, a ruby ring, pearl earrings, a spectacular antique perfume decanter, and many more - I still have them and cherish them.  But I don't think anything matched the bedroom furniture.

I remember this as I think of my dad, living for the past many, many years in Copenhagen.  I rarely ever see him and we don't talk or write as much as we should.  He was a difficult dad but he was a good one.  While he could be hard to understand sometimes, his temper could flare easily, and sometimes his moods could be dark, he knew his girls - better than we knew him.  And he dreamed for us.

Looking back on that furniture now, it was not "keepsake".  It is out of fashion.  And we outgrew it.  But as an awkward 14 year old, I needed to feel a bit like a princess.   I was a princess on the day that furniture was delivered - in a way that only my daddy could make happen.