Some 20 years ago, my little sister Grace grabbed one of my mom’s nightgowns out of the laundry basket and started carrying it around.
It was a “slicky” nightgown you see, some sort of synthetic with a silky feel, perfect for snuggling against or rubbing between one’s fingers.
As I remember it, Grace carried the nightgown with her whenever she had a chance, slept with it, and generally loved it until Mom made her a “slicky” of her own – something akin to a handkerchief made out of similarly “slicky” fabric.
Years later, mom retired the nightgown and I grabbed it up. I cut off the lower portion, added a casing at top for elastic and wore it as a slip for eight, ten, or more years.
Recently, I pulled the slip from my drawer and added it to a pile of mending sitting atop another dresser in our room. The elastic in the waist is shot. Either I need to replace the elastic or convert the slip to other purposes.
But one day, about a week ago, Tirzah Mae’s lovey (a “slicky” I made for her with ribbon tags) got dirty and was in the wash – and Tirzah Mae was not settling down for a nap without it. I grabbed the old nightie-turned-slip from the dresser and snuggled it against Tirzah Mae’s cheek. Safely nestled in a “slicky”, Tirzah Mae fell asleep.
Today, she wraps her hands in it and waves it around, just as her aunt did some 20 years ago.