Blessing for a Baby

I had my Covid booster jab today, but was dismayed to discover that I’d had a senior moment and written the time down as 11.50 when it should have been 10.50. Fortunately I was still able to have my vaccination, but it gave me a bit of a jolt to my self esteem to think I could be so silly.

It also reminded me that when my lovely grandmother succumbed to dementia, my mother bought her a doll to cuddle. My Granny loved her doll, and rocked her and sang to her constantly. It was an inspired idea on my mother’s part, which gave my Granny much comfort. I still have the doll, and I find it so poignant that my granddaughters play happily with her, unaware of how old she is and what she means to me.

This is not my Granny’s doll, though, it’s my own. Many years ago I bought her for myself so that my family would know that I have a favourite doll already available, should it become necessary! Her beautiful blonde plaits used to be tied with white satin ribbons, but years of being played with by my granddaughters seems to have taken their toll.

She is wrapped in a gorgeous blanket knitted by my mother, which she made for my eldest son when he was born. You can only see a glimpse of it here, but it’s a traditional Shetland crib cover, a blessing for a baby, called a ‘robe of glory’ and the patterns represent various aspects of island life, including the water of life, the anchor of hope, the guiding star and the crown of glory. The toy pram she’s sitting in was a very special surprise present to me from my eldest son for the Christmas before his daughter, our first grandchild, was born. It had just been confirmed that the baby was a girl, the first in the family since 1912, and, unbeknown to me, I had been observed looking surreptitiously at dolls’ prams online with a wistful look on my face …