Goodbye to Curious

I found the ancient pink tattered Easter bunny among your things a couple of years after you died. He was barely recognizable, with no ears, eyes, or other distinguishable features, and barely any fur left. You said when you got him as a gift one Easter morning in the early 1960s that his facial expression made him look curious, and so you gave him that name. Curious was your favorite toy, but he was so much more than a toy to you. You tucked him into bed with you every night until you went off to college, and then he went with you. I never saw much of Curious after that, but I was not surprised to discover him stored in a box after you were gone. You always clung to the important things, my sweet, sensitive, sentimental girl. Letting go is one of the hardest things for humans, and you found it especially difficult. I think you found it easier to let go of life itself than to endure the endless cycle of changes life forces us to face. Even after Curious became shabby and worn and sad to look at, you kept him and never let him go.

Curious was cute and cuddly in his earlier days. He filled a huge void in your young life, in a home where there was sometimes little affection or joy. He gave you comfort and companionship. He was your confidant and knew all of your thoughts and dreams. He waited patiently and silently for you on your pillow every day while you were at school.

I also found an old plush blue Easter bunny among your things. I didn't recall ever having met this bunny while you were alive, so I was not sure when you got him. He was tattered also, and no longer in good enough condition to donate to Goodwill. You and I loved our stuffed animals when we were growing up, especially our Easter bunnies. The Velveteen Rabbit was one of our favorite childhood reads.

I was tempted to keep both the blue rabbit and Curious forever, wrapping them in a cloth or tissue paper and tucking them into a closet or drawer. It took me a long time to realize that I need to let go of your childhood toys, you, and all the sad memories. I need to let you remain in the past and move forward, if I am going to have a future. I've been mired in grief and sadness at times for almost five years since you died, and maybe even to some extent ever since our Mama left us almost fifty years ago. My recent inability to cope with my feelings and reach out for help almost led to the end of my sanity, my career, and my life as I know it. I need to release the sadness and work like crazy on bringing more happiness into my life.

I built a little fire in the copper pit on our back patio, and gently placed Curious and the blue bunny in the flames. Smoke curled up towards the bright summer sky as the fire consumed them, releasing their essence into the universe. I hope somewhere your beloved stuffed animals will find your spirit and cuddle with you again. You were my sister and my closest relative in the world. Although you will still always be my sister, I must now also find sisterhood among the living. Maybe I will see you again in another life. I wish you joy, peace, and happiness where ever you are.