2682. A special doll

Well, yes. People say that my little girl is a bit “different” but I don’t really like to admit to it. She’s all of seven and I like to think of her as just a normal little girl.

I’m managing okay – I think. Her mother died when she was five. Rather tragically in a car accident. For her seventh birthday I gave my daughter a doll. What the hell does a guy like me know about buying a doll? Anyway I got one but apparently it didn’t come with all the right clothes. She liked the doll nonetheless. But I got some of my late wife’s old dresses and took it to a dressmaker with the doll’s dimensions and asked her if she could make a couple of sets of doll’s clothes.

That was a couple of weeks ago, and the doll’s clothes arrived. They are perfect. In fact I nearly cried when I saw them on the doll. The little doll so looked like my late wife – especially with the fabric of her clothes now on the doll.

Just yesterday I heard my daughter playing with her doll in her room. She was talking to it. It caught me off guard because I could hear my late wife’s voice answering back. So I peeped in through the open door and my daughter was talking to the doll. It was quite sweet.

And then the doll answered back. It was my wife’s voice.