A memory

As I rub my hand over my cheek this morning and relished the soft feel I remembered that I used to that to my Grandma B. She took meticulous care of her skin and had the most amazing collection of makeup I had ever seen. My whole life she used the same cold cream and her skin when bare of its accessories smelled faintly perfumed and felt so soft. Softer than the anything I had felt in my life, and nothing that is man-made could be compared. I loved watching her wash her face, seeing the makeup disappear. She told me to pat my skin dry when I washed it, never scrub it dry. I still do that.  I used to love how she would coordinate her makeup to match her outfits and she was fearless to try new things and techniques or products when they were released.  I still remember the smell of her skin, the smell of the lotion and the powder she used to finish her face. I am going to hold this memory tightly and tell my niece or nephew as they grow about the simple things that I remember and love about my grandparents.

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