“Gran, do you remember we bought the property next to your parent’s old place?”
“I might be old, but I remember,” she paused, “everything!”
“There’s an abandoned cabin near the creek.”
The old woman nodded.
“I found this.” She said, lifting the lid from a soiled box. “Do you know anything about this wedding dress and tiara?”
Tears streamed down her grandmother’s anguished face.
“Gran?”
The family matriarch searched for the hankie tucked in her sleeve. Sniffing, she knew it was time to tell the story she had kept hidden, along with the dress, since that day in 1949.
“I might be old, but I remember,” she paused, “everything!”
“There’s an abandoned cabin near the creek.”
The old woman nodded.
“I found this.” She said, lifting the lid from a soiled box. “Do you know anything about this wedding dress and tiara?”
Tears streamed down her grandmother’s anguished face.
“Gran?”
The family matriarch searched for the hankie tucked in her sleeve. Sniffing, she knew it was time to tell the story she had kept hidden, along with the dress, since that day in 1949.
Old buildings, homesteads, and towns that have all but disappeared will share at least one story if we are lucky. To have permission to explore these archives is a gift, and one that should not be taken lightly.
As luck would have it, several years ago, Steve and I stayed at a bed and breakfast just off of the Trans Canada Highway. The owners were gracious in their sharing of the archives of their registered heritage home, and I took advantage of the permission given to visit the farm machinery boneyard to take pictures.
After breakfast, the men talked about the farms’ history and I was asked to accompany our hostess to see the wedding dress in this collection of pictures. It had been preserved with a great amount of care and love. I felt, and feel honoured to have been able to take these pictures of this early 1940's era dress. The intricacy of hand stitches and other * along with the beadwork done by hand is an art that is not often seen in this twenty-first century.
As luck would have it, several years ago, Steve and I stayed at a bed and breakfast just off of the Trans Canada Highway. The owners were gracious in their sharing of the archives of their registered heritage home, and I took advantage of the permission given to visit the farm machinery boneyard to take pictures.
After breakfast, the men talked about the farms’ history and I was asked to accompany our hostess to see the wedding dress in this collection of pictures. It had been preserved with a great amount of care and love. I felt, and feel honoured to have been able to take these pictures of this early 1940's era dress. The intricacy of hand stitches and other * along with the beadwork done by hand is an art that is not often seen in this twenty-first century.
| Ann Edall-Robson Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience.” to edit. | Be the first to get all our latest news and updates. |
August 8, 2022, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about “the one who left the dress.” A 1940s-era dress still hangs in an abandoned house. Who left it and why? You can take any perspective and write in any genre. It can be a ghost story. Or not. Go where the prompt leads!
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