My Small Ancestry- Alexis (O'Doyle- Riccio- Crowley)

So I guess I was going through my clothes to sort of weigh my options for the coming cold days, because I sometimes have walked out of my suite recently and felt entirely unprepared. That logic didn't last long, I got distracted. I tried on one of Grandma's sweaters and it still smells like her. Remnants of perfume from what must have been 15 years ago, sweet and deep. I can see on top of her dresser the crystal bottles of musk, which I loved to spray on my wrist as a kid, and then I would go through her jewelry and try it on, also in crystal boxes (they were really plastic but to a kid if its clear and faceted, its crystal). We won't talk about the gross bottle of patchouli, what were you thinking grandma? I further break down that sweater smell and there are hints of laundry detergent and dryer sheets - which is very fitting because it seems like my grandma was always doing laundry, cooking, or watching soap operas with a glass of O'Douls (and always saying 'balls, I'm so discouraged'). But it smells like my mom too, having been in her closet for the past few years since my grandma died, hanging close to the dresses that hold on to the lady stetson that I bought my mom at Wal-Mart for christmas a couple times. The 'anniversary' of Grandma's death is coming up this march, right around her birthday. Funny thing. Anyway the fabric is thick and soft and woven and thats just exactly what my grandma's character would feel like. The way it sort of hangs like some sort of crazy luxury bohemian blanket reminds me of old pictures of my mom. The faded teal is the color of the grain in the light blue wood paneling of Grandma's living room. The ribbed v-neck collar is her fashion sense, like how she loved movie star sunglasses- space black or turtle shell brown, big lenses and big smiles. I remember sitting on the bench by the upright piano (surrounded by that light blue wood panelling, and dark brown furniture and carpeting- essential to the memory), fishing out a pair from her collection that sat on top of the piano, putting them on, and her telling me, hand to heart 'ahh! You look like a movie star!' And of course she's thinking more Sophia Loren than Lindsey Lohan. When she died I inherited one of my favorite pairs of those movie star glasses that I used to wear alot in my later teens- square turtle shell brown frames and the best damn sun blocking lenses I ever looked through. One day this time of year I was walking around my neighborhood in a sort of lasso shaped loop where you had to walk straight a block, go in a circle, and walk back that same straight block. I had those sunglasses in my coat pocket. I went full circle and got to the point where I had already walked, and a few feet in I saw my glasses on the ground, shattered. And of course they shattered like a movie star, all beautiful and sad.

The sweater is no movie star, but its not shattering any time soon either.