Sunny Daze

(This post is dedicated in loving memory to Mrs. Helen Hakes, a kind and loving soul who passed to soon.)

Unpacking a box of belongings that my ex-wife had placed in storage when she had sold our old home and moved to Phoenix Coop, I stumbled across an old, battered rag doll with a dull green dress and a smiling face framed with faded yellow sunflower petals.

The doll brought a smile to my face. Sunny. Sunny Daze. That was the name that my daughter Jasmine had given her when she received her as a Christmas present when she was four years old by our neighbor at the time, Mrs. Hanes.

Jasmine had so many stuffed animals and dolls at that time, but Sunny had been one of her favorites. She was the simplest of toys, her dress was sewn on tight, so she couldn’t be undressed like Jasmine’s Barbie dolls could, but there was something special about that doll and her smile.

I picked up the soft, limp doll, remembering the way that my daughter’s eyes had lit up when she opened the box containing Sunny. The name leaped from her lips as if they had been old friends, just reunited. I don’t think she put her down for three days after receiving her.

The dress was stained in the front from what looked like fruit punch, and one petal was now missing, but somehow that just increased her charm.

Mrs. Hanes had smiled and nodded her head when she heard how much Jasmine had liked the doll. “I’m so glad. She’s just like a doll I had when I was a little girl. We didn’t have much when I was young, but I always had a friend that I could talk to when I had my raggedy doll.”

We only lived next to Mrs. Hanes for a couple of years before we were able to buy a bigger house in a better neighborhood, but the memory of Mrs. Hanes brought a smile to my face. She was the kind of person that I watched out for as a beat cop. She was a feisty widow who lived on her own in a home full of knickknacks and memories.

Despite having the use of only one arm, she was determined to ignore her disability as she went about her daily tasks. Her husband had passed some years before we moved next door, but I felt like I knew him well, since she was always eager to proudly show her old family pictures and tell stories about their lives together.

She was even more eager though, to show the newspaper clippings and photos of her pride and joy, her son. She was so proud of his accomplishments that tears formed in her eyes whenever she spoke of him.

Looking into the smiling face of Sunny, I thought of the love that Mrs. Hanes gave and the way that she always remembered our kids’ birthdays and our wedding anniversary. It wasn’t a true holiday season until we received the traditional Christmas card from Mrs. Hanes.

When I called Jasmine to tell that I had found Sunny again, I could hear her voice light up over the phone. “You found Sunny? Wow, I had wondered where she went!”

“Do you want me to bring her to you, Jazz?”

“You know what, Dad? I think Sunny would be something that would be perfect for Alexa.”

“Are you sure Jazz? I know how much you loved this doll.”

“I think that Mrs. Hanes would approve Dad. I miss her.”

“Who, Sunny or Mrs. Hanes?”

She laughed. “Silly! I miss Mrs. Hanes.”

“Me too, Jazz. Me too. Say hello to your mother and Ms. Fyre for me, won’t you?”

“Sure thing. Bye Dad!”

I held the small, soft doll carefully in my hand as I hung up the cell phone with the other hand. It was amazing to think that such a small thing could mean so much, could represent so many memories and so much love.

Just like there could never be too much love in life, there could never be enough Sunny Daze. It was good to be reminded of that once in a while.

I sent a silent prayer of thanks to Mrs. Hanes for her many gifts.