There were two different things about my Holy Communion dress.
1. It was brand new. Unlike most of my clothes which came from Mrs Marjoribanks over the street. Like my yellow hot pants,aw! A secondhand bag of clothes was always so exciting.
2. I had to wear it more than just for my marriage to Christ. I had to wear it as a day dress and I wanted to. I thought it special and white and fine. I wore it on special trips to Sydney on the Newcastle Flyer. I wore it with white socks and my school shoes. Proud and not knowing that I was one of “those” kids.
It made me feel new and special. Now it’s old and yellowing like me and I wonder at my childhood and what makes us who we are. I wonder why I’ve kept it. Perhaps because I knew it was the only time I was ever going to get married. It was a quiet, calm divorce and we’re still on terms of understanding.I like ritual and I’m glad I know something of it, even if I’m long gone from those days.
I think mostly the lump in my throat aches from the suggestion that, I was once a little girl.