My mother-in-law, when she was living, collected dolls. Some of her daughters would buy dolls for her on every one of her birthdays and at Christmas time. She had a whole room full of dolls. Dolls were on the bed, covering it up, on the floor, and on every piece of furniture in the bedroom.
Once, when I was visiting her with her daughter, my wife, I took the time to go back into the bedroom and look at all the dolls. Now, I am not a doll lover. I would never collect dolls, though my wife did to a small degree. As I looked through the dolls, I noticed this little boy doll dressed in green. I think he must have been a little Irish boy from what I can remember. I don't know why, but I fell in love with that doll.
When I went back into the living room, and told my mother-in-law that I wanted her to be sure that I got that doll when she died. She said she would. I never really thought about it after that.
My wife passed away in 2003, and her mother came to the visitation and funeral. At the visitation, my mother-in-law came to me and handed me that little doll and said, "I want you to have this before I die just in case someone forgets to give it to you after I am gone." I was speechless.
I took the doll and placed it in a ante-room in the church so that I could take it home afterward. In all the business of the funeral, I forgot to take it home. About two weeks later, I remembered the doll. The next Sunday morning I went to church, and I immediately went to the room to get the doll to take it home. When I got into the room, I could not find the doll anywhere. Evidently someone had seen it and had taken it. I was extremely sad for several reasons--first, because my mother-in-law had taken the time to give it to me; second, because she had given up one of her dolls for me; and third, because I really wanted that doll for several reasons.
I know that a doll is only a doll and that in this case I was a softly, but I cannot help still missing that little green boy who used to sit on my lap.