Saturday, April 11, 2015

A Ritual

Rituals......most of us have some in our lives.....one of my most favorite was passed down from my mom.  From the time I was a small child I watched my mom put on her make-up every day.....then take it off at night.  My mother was a beautiful woman......olive skin, dark brown eyes, and shiny dark hair.  I remember her brown eye brow pencil, her cake mascara and red lipstick. Her jars of creams, which I thought must be magical potions, sitting on her dresser.

Each night as she took her make-up off and then used her night cream, it seemed like a magical ritual, one that I could not wait to perform.  Her instructions on cleansing your face every night before bed was ingrained in my brain at such a young age. To go to bed without cleansing your face was pretty much a sin.

I love the ritual of cleansing my face before bed, even on the days I don't wear make-up.  There is something so soothing, refreshing and renewing.......to feel the creamy cleanser (never soap) glide across my skin, the sensation of water.....and then the softness of clean skin.  It is like leaving the day behind, letting go of the good and the bad before getting into bed.

Rick and I have been married forty years and only once can I remember going to bed without cleansing my face......this past year, in the throes of meningitis.....I was so sick I could not cleanse my face.  I woke up the next morning, not only still sick, but with the grime still on my face from the day before......it was a most unpleasant realization.

I often think of my mom as I perform my  nightly ritual ( which by the way, I have passed on to my niece Samantha) I laughed at Sam yesterday, she stopped by to pick Jordan up on her way home from work........as she was leaving, she looked at me and said......"I can't wait to go home and wash my face, and get rid of this day."  I knew exactly what she meant.......it feels so good to wash the day off your face.

1 comment:

  1. You have a good ritual. No wonder you have such lovely skin. Zsa Zsa Gabor wrote that soap had never touched the faces of her mother, her sister, or herself. They were beautiful women also.

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