Friday, February 24, 2012

Goodbye, good friend

Hello!
Up and running but not without some trials along the way, I might add.  Choosing a title was a rather daunting task. Who would have thought that "Too Many Chickens" was already taken!  And I thought that "Foxglove Hollow" was my own stroke of brilliance... apparently not. Many months, many images, many words and their weighty significance.  The final result? 

one lost mouse



My daughter Caroline's chosen lovey was a mouse we called, eloquently enough, Mousey.  He was average sized with long legs and skinny arms and a long grey tail that was the same velvety as the inside of his floppy ears. His tummy curved just so, as all Jelly Cat creatures seem to do. I HIGHLY recommend them because they are perfect. Mousey was my third child until my third child came along.  Where ever we went, Mousey came along and we were extremely diligent about his whereabouts. "Do you have Mousey?" my husband would ask, on par with, "Got the keys?"  He was very well cared for.  And he was loved.  Oh, how he was loved. To understand Mousey, one first has to understand Caroline, my most passionate child.  She has always been full of love, and I believe, put all of that love into that Mouse. The whole thing is very velveteen rabbit, of course,  and every parent might have similar feelings but this was different.  I could see it, every time I saw that Mouse, that he possessed all that was good in my child.  He was the physical representation of all of that love.  One that I thought I would cherish forever...

When Caroline turned five, she needed him less and less.  One day, we noticed he was missing and I was confident in my magic finding powers and said, "He'll turn up.  He's around here somewhere."  Well, he didn't turn up.  Ever. We searched everywhere, in the yard, our neighbors house, even the last hotel we stayed at in the off chance we left him behind. Mousey was gone. I was heartbroken.  Tremendously crushed.  How could I lose something so precious?  After all of those years of carefully looking after him, he was gone.  The reality is that number three likely put him in the diaper champ and he's lost in a landfill full of non decomposing diapers. Oh, what a terrible demise!  I can't bear to think about it, really, its that horrible.

Caroline, on the other hand, was nonchalant about the whole thing. "That's OK, Mom, I don't really need him anymore."

Just like that, she was growing up, my expectations had to shift with this new reality, and life went on.  Just like that.


And that is what this blog is all about.