He sits on a bookshelf overlooking where I sleep. He watches in silence. His big green eyes have watch me through almost sixty years of life. He never complained as I held him close so many years that his fur became matted and rough. Yet, even today, when a special sadness envelopes me, he is there to give me a hug. The whispers are gone, yet all else remains. He is not as strong as he once was. With time and use, he does not sit well on his own and must lean against the side for support. But he is always there, never to leave watching me as I sleep.
When we were young, we met under a Christmas tree. He sat strong, and proud on the seat of the new red tricycle with my name attached to a small bow. He wore a bow as well, a blue satin ribbon around his neck, kept in place with a big blue bow. I do not know when his satin ribbon disappeared, and I replaced it with a black yarn hair tie, so out of place in today’s fashions.
He as accompanied me since I was two, on every move to a new town. The change of each school. When I would come home fearful of the new kids I faced, and hug him with my arms and tears. He walked with me through my childhood. He followed me through my youth. I never seem to be able to part with him, even as an adult with children. My children never played with him, for he was mine and some what sacred. He was there when marriages failed, children born, to now after decades of years together.
What will be come of him when I am gone? I do not know. Each child knows he is special and dear. They still do not touch, yet look for him in his place with each visit. “You still have him I see.” is all they say when they enter the bedroom.
A strange adventure for a creation so small, says nothing only watches those around. Yet, he keeps his spot through every move, every transition, and every phase. I wonder sometimes if, like the Velveteen Rabbit, he will become real once I am gone.
amtolle
Me, Myself and I 