Tender Things

There were several items I took from my mother’s house this past month as we began the process of readying her lovely home for sale.  There were some beautiful crystal candlesticks, a set of floral pitchers, a small bewitching peridot ring, and her darling leopard sneakers which fit me perfectly.  But of all the things I took, nothing moved me as much as the small basket of makeup I selected from her overflowing collection.

I don’t think my mother ever threw away a single eye pencil, the navy blue ones being her favorite.  I helped myself to two or three as well as her lifelong companions – Maybelline Expert Eyes Brow pencils.  She always had several of those nostalgic red pencils in every cosmetic receptacle she owned.  From her bathroom, I dropped her Revlon Powder Blush in Just Peachy into my small basket.  I knew I couldn’t take everything but I wanted a good selection of her favorites – those drugstore beauty helpers that always seemed to be a part of her handbags and old shoe boxes.

And oh the lipsticks….I now have seven of them – all in her signature color:  Tropical Coral, Luminous Coral, Merry Mango (coral), and my favorite, a bright no-brand coral, called “Jo-Jo”.  That one may have been bought at the local dollar store where she loved rifling through the one-off lipstick bin whenever she stopped in for a new kitchen mop or Comet Cleanser.  It has really dawned on me how much toiletries, make-up, and other sundries say about a woman.  Grooming is hardwired into us and is not frivolous.  It is a part of living our daily lives and important until the end.  Even though my mother was frail and could only walk with a cane, she still wanted me to drive her to the pharmacy for creams and lotions such as her recent purchase of Boots No. 7 Protect and Perfect Intense Day Cream, of which she bought two.

My mother was an at-home pampering girl and would never have dreamed of having a salon facial.  This last year, my sister and I hired a lovely woman to come in and give Mom a manicure and pedicure every few weeks.  I’m pretty sure this was the only time she ever had professional nail care and she enjoyed the visits very much.

The small basket of my mother’s cosmetics is very precious to me right now and I keep it on the middle shelf of my linen closet where I see it often.  I feel a rush of tenderness whenever I look at it.  In the morning, my cheeks get a dusting of her Revlon blush.  It makes me feel close to her and I love touching the small things she touched.  I imagine a few tiny atoms of Mom’s DNA staying with me all day.  I enjoy using her creams and other beauty aids and I especially cherish and relish her lipsticks.  “Jo-Jo” is most becoming on these grey winter mornings.

I was wearing “Jo-Jo” last week when one of my oldest friends took me to lunch.  Her warm hello included, “You are the image of your mother!”.  And even though my sweet friend’s remark caused a sudden tear in my eye, I felt my coral lips smiling.  “That’s music to my ears”, I said back.