I had a beloved Auntie Bea. I had planned to name my child after her and after my Great Nan: Beatrix Violet. It never happened. Perhaps this doll can receive the name instead.
Auntie Bea had not completed the doll she was making for me when she died (it's been about 15 years.) My Nana, whose name I have, couldn't leave Doll Me, now Beatrix Violet, unfinished. I had mailed a portion of my hair for the doll. My Nana learned to make human hair into a head of doll hair. It's my hair on her head.
The porcelain version of me. In shoes and clothing sewn by Auntie Bea (whose name was not Beatrix, but Beryl, though I didn't know the truth of her name until she was dead. I always assumed "Bea" was short for Beatrix,) the doll version of me is more carefully assembled, attired, and prepared for the world than I.
It's a shame she sits in our bedroom where no one but us sees her. Auntie Bea and Nana worked so hard.
Beatrix Violet is cherished.
I wish Auntie Bea had seen the completion of her beautiful creation.