By Evelyn David
I've been thinking a lot about The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants by Ann Brashares. The premise is that there is a pair of
magic jeans that all four best friends can wear, despite their being disparate
sizes and shapes. It's a sweet tale, but mine is true.
Many (many) years ago, when I was pregnant with my first
child, my mother took me to Lord and Taylor's (a big department store) to shop
for a layette. (I don't even know if they call it a layette anymore.) But since
we didn't know the gender of the baby, ultrasounds were not routine back in the
dark ages, we bought everything in pastel shades of yellow and green – and added
a little white footed onesie. Long sleeves, long pants, snaps all the
way down the middle and one leg – easy on and off.
Now Son Number One was born at the end of July. It was a
minimum of 100 degrees, but on the day we brought him home from the hospital,
he wore an undershirt, the little white long-sleeved footed onesie, and two
receiving blankets. He weighed six pounds, nine ounces and the outfit fit
perfectly.
Fast-forward three-and-a-half years and it was time to bring
home Son Number Two. This time it was New Year's Eve, and he too wore the little
white onesie, minus the undershirt which I'd forgotten, as well as without any
receiving blankets. I'm pretty sure my husband warmed up the car. Son Number
Two weighed eight pounds, seven ounces.
And a tradition was set. When Son Number Three, born
three years later at eight pounds, two ounces, and then six years after that when
Darling Daughter arrived on the scene, six pounds, six ounces, regardless of
the weather or weight, each came home in the little white onesie.
I am a sentimental wuss, so I couldn't bear to part with the
outfit, along with a few other cherished baby clothes, so I tucked them away in
the attic.
Fast forward even further in time, to the arrival of
adorable granddaughter (who turns three tomorrow!!). At seven pounds, two ounces,
the little white onesie fit her perfectly for the trip home from the hospital.
And then two weeks ago, delightful grandson, all 9 pounds,
3.8 ounces of him, rode home in style in the little white onesie that his Daddy
had worn all those years ago.
There is a Jewish expression, meant for more serious things,
but seems right for this tale: L'Dor V'Dor – from generation to generation.
Evelyn David, the Northern half who is also known as Grandma
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Murder Takes the Cake Kindle - Nook - Smashwords - Trade Paperback
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Terrific tradition. So happy you shared it with us.
ReplyDeletePam
Being a grandma is the greatest!
ReplyDeleteMarilyn
My kids also wore the same white onesie home from the hospital...hopefully, a grandchild, one day, will as well. I took child #1's clothes last year and had them turned into a quilt. Will do the same for child #2. Congratulations on all of this wonderful family stuff! Maggie
ReplyDeleteEvelyn I love your Post...L'Dor V'Dor...Rings a Bell...I do Love That Expression...Best to You ,Susan in Vermont ...Need to Pin Your Books on Pinterest..I will on the Board E-Mysteries tomorrow AM.Its a Busy Place.:)
ReplyDeleteLovely tradition, Bubbe Marian! L'Dor V'Dor, indeed.
ReplyDeleteAnd I hope Rhonda, the southern half of Evelyn David, is safe and secure in Oklahoma during this terrible tornado season.
What a sweet story, Evelyn! We kind of did that here. Both girls wore my lacy christening gown. I forget what the boy wore, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't the lacy gown... :)Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful thing to do. I still have hand made things that my mother made for me 70 years ago. But my girls came home in onesies, which they didn't have in the 40's. L'Dor V'Dor-that brings tears to my eyes.
ReplyDelete