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The Averting Doll

There are some things we have to live with – not always of our own choosing. Some of these things are alive (friends, relatives, the people you work with) and some not alive (objects, concepts, the dead). Oh, don’t get that wrong – some people live with the dead only in a figurative sense. Some folks continue to live with the dead because they share their houses, their living quarters and even some of the inanimate objects they have left behind. Our mother passed away just over 4 years ago – it was the day after her seventieth birthday. Even so, her passing still hurts and affects some of us even now. One object she left behind I have named “The Averting Doll”.







She left behind a large array of ordinary things and some that are a little special to her and her family. She really got into handcrafts in the last couple of decades of her life. She became quite good with crocheting and other needlework. She was very good with a sewing machine and other forms of stitchery, too. She even built a 1/10th scale scratch-built doll house on her own – and painted it too. She became good enough to stitch and crochet doll’s clothes that would fit dolls of her selection exactly. Of the room full’s of stuff she left behind, one particularly good example is a doll of about 18” in height in a white crochet wedding dress.






The doll stands on an étagère in the most remote corner of my (current) bedroom and is near the head of my bed. Even so, the doll is in such a remote location that it is difficult for anybody to access. That is until just last week or so. This week, realizing my mother had not left me anything in her will, I uttered some oaths about it. Well, the doll turned its head 180° to face the corner – on its own. No strangers or service people had been in the house. I asked my family if they had touched the doll – knowing that most of them would have been unable – of course they had not. Now, I still go to sleep in that same room, with chills running up and down my back.






I have never touched the doll myself, except to knock off a cobweb now and then. And I have never touched the head of the doll – never. The averting doll’s face and head remain turned to face the corner – forever…

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