Yesterday, I wrote about my parents’ 65th anniversary.
This morning when I arrived at Nana’s room a little earlier than usual, she was still in her nightgown.
It was the one from her honeymoon to New York City.
When she had wanted to change to short-sleeve nightgowns, I had found this pastel one folded up in her drawer, so I pulled it out and Paco brought it over to her. When I was there next, Nana told me she was afraid it wouldn’t fit because it was from her honeymoon! Apparently, she had not worn it much and had kept it in her dresser, because it looked almost like new. I showed her that it was the same size as another nightgown she was wearing, but it has hung in her closet for weeks without her using it.
I am not sure how it came to be that she wore it last night, sixty-five years after her wedding night, but the poignancy of it took my breath away.
I hope that she was comforted by it last night and slept well, wrapped in remembrance.