A Moment

My two sisters and I were taught by our stern but loving Mother early in life to be fiercely independent. Dad was far more indulgent of his three daughters.

It was decades later before I understood what motivated Mom to be so persistent about the need to be self reliant.

Anna King Donlon was the older of the two King daughters nestled into a family with six sons. She was also liberated from becoming the family cook and housekeeper because she found employment at the age of 14.

The burden then fell on Aunt Helen, the younger female in the household, and remained forever hers.

In return Helen was nurtured by her older sister until death parted them. The two sisters shared all but the love of my indulgent Dad.

During the two decades I shared with both ladies there was only one moment when I saw a shade of displeasure with her sister cross my Mother’s face.

And it was caused by a coat.

A stylish wardrobe was something my Mother may have craved, but never purchased. Rather all available funds went to keeping “Her girls,” looking good.

I am uncertain when the coat the color of crushed raspberries first appeared on a hanger in the open closet. Nor can I recall the first time I saw Mom wear it,

The simple coat was certainly not from a designer’s boutique, more likely a treasure discovered on a rack in Kleins on the Square. Yet it miraculously transformed Mom’s image from a tired housewife into woman of mystery.

Her dark hair suddenly became a splash of spilled ink and the simple design emphasized her svelte body.

The moment Anna King Donlon donned the raspberry coat, she became exotic and she knew it.

Soon after I noticed the simple coat in my parent’s open closet, my kind and gentle Aunt began to quietly but persistently“Borrow” her sister’s new garment always “just for a few minutes,”

Then one sad October day as Mom was walking my sister and I home from school I heard a neighbor ask:

“Ann, why do you alway wear Helen’s coat?”

Mom never wore the coat, the color of crushed raspberries, again and eventually bequeathed it to her younger sister.

Still for obscure reason the garment never performed its magic again for the new owner.