Our house is quiet except for a passing vehicle and the swishing of the ceiling fan.  On rare occasions like this, the baby is asleep downstairs contentedly without any noise disturbances.  Today is a special day.  It’s a special one because James is graduating today.  Every other member of our family, except for me and the baby, has gone to attend his graduation and concert ceremony.  

This morning, on the contrary, was total chaos.  Our house was buzzing with activity with three very excited boys, especially James.  Once again, I opened up my vanity case. 

I’ve had this vanity case since I got married.  That was ten years ago.  My mum handed it down to me.  She kept it for many years since she was a young lady. It’s a handsome deep maroon coloured casing with a sturdy handle on its top cover for easy carrying.  Its base measures fourteen by six inches, and its height is six inches.  With no deep visible scratch marks it looks recent, barely resembling its age. 

It contains all my makeup and makeup accessories.  There is a burst of colour inside this case.  I have at least twenty samples of cool and warm coloured lipstick each.  And then, there are colours for the eyes and cheeks.  Also present are pencil sticks for the eyes, eyebrows and the lips.  There is even a white sharpener for my sticks.  Included inside this casing there are also a few bottles of foundation for the face plus a tube of base controller.  Not to be left out, also available are bottles of nail colour.  These have not been used for so long that the colours have segregated from the oil creating a two toned effect.     

I bought these colours once upon a time ago when I was younger and single.  I had aspired to use my colours to make every woman beautiful.  More importantly, I had once, wanted to make myself beautiful with my colours. 

I married and my priorities changed.  I had babies.  I became a mummy.  Wearing this title, I performed the various tasks that came along with it.  I fed my children, changed nappies, told stories, took them to parks, sang songs, played hide and seek etc.  I quickly learned that babies and makeup are like water and oil.  They don’t mix very well together.  As the years rolled by, there lies an unrealised dream of a once young woman in that vanity case. 

Nowadays, the vanity case sits in the corner of my room collecting dust.  Despite its rare usability, it contains many special memories.  It has become somewhat of an icon.  The vanity case is only opened on special occasions.

I lugged it about with me on my wedding day using its contents to touch up my bridal makeup.  That would be the first time I put it to good use.  That first time was ten years ago.  Fast forward to now.  I attended my cousin sister’s wedding a few months back.  To apply colours on my face to celebrate her special day, I opened the vanity case for the first time this year.  

Today, I open it for the second time this year for another special occasion.  I have with me a child struggling to get away from the colours of the vanity case.  I tell James to close his eyes.  He does.  I put on some eye colour for him.  Half way through, he opens his eyes and laughs.  He wants to look at himself in the mirror, he says.   He is squirmy and fidgety.  Stop moving, I command in vain.  I colour his cheeks bright red.  The red is redder than any red I dared to apply.  Experience has taught me that the red colour will create a rosy look for him when he performs up on stage. James is an inquisitive six year old.  His hands are all over the place.  His fingers dig into a purple eye colour.   He paints his cheek with the purple.  I quickly try to rub it off.  I attempt to cover it with more red.  If you look closely enough, you will find a purple spot on his right cheek.   I cake his face with powder.  He cannot stand still.  He complains of an itchy eye.  I ignore his complaint and continue powdering.  He chatters a lot.  Today is no exception.  He talks about all things; the songs he is going to sing, the costume he is wearing and asks where papa is.  I finish by applying on lipstick for him. Stop talking, I say to him. He does and purses his lips.  I tell him to relax.  Deftly, I use a lipstick brush to apply on a pink colour.  No, I think to myself, the colour looks too girlie on him.  I change my mind and use a darker red.  Perfect.  And now, for the final touch up I put on some lip gloss.

You are ready, I say.  Not yet, he says, you need to apply hair gel for me.  In my haste I forgot.  That’s right, I reply.  I rush into the bathroom for some green gel.  I comb his short hair haphazardly hoping to create a punky look.  He runs out of the door before I can count to three.

I send James to his preschool to catch his bus.  Some time later, the rest of us pack ourselves into the car to the concert.  I decide to stay behind to nurse the baby.

The house is quiet once again.  I walk into my room to tidy up the vanity case.  I organise the colours, rearranging them into their respective storage containers.  As my hands work, my mind reminisces.  I think of James during his early days at preschool.  He would cry when I left him with his teacher in class.  He wasn’t sure if I would come for him ever again.  Then, I think of how he ran to join his friends just a moment ago when I dropped him off. He didn’t even hesitate to cast a backward glance.  I imagine him looking dashing in his graduation gown.  My little boy is all grown up now. 

I shut the vanity case.  As I do so, I also close a chapter of James’s life.  Another new beginning awaits him when he starts ‘real’ school next year. 

I put back the vanity case in its usual corner.  There it sits patiently waiting.  It is waiting to be opened at our next special occasion. 

Cheers !  and a good weekend to you.