My parents wanted me to take a smaller cardboard box of my stuff with me but I resisted. My reason for resisting wasn’t because I didn’t want an extra box sitting around the house. I resisted because I was fearful of the emotion being stirred within me.
Why on earth was I getting so emotional over some old box of stuffed toys!?
But they insisted and I picked it up and carried it across the street to my house joking that I was quote: “Taking my dollies and going home.” But as I made my way up the sidewalk and into my grown-up house where I pay all of the bills, I couldn’t help but feel like I was holding the past in my hands. A past never to be visited again… A time now relegated to the confines of a cardboard home.
I set the box in the living room and stared at it for a while. Drawn to Stephanie’s blue eyes, wide stitched smile and yarn ponytail, I felt uneasy. I couldn’t bring myself to take them to the basement or seal the box and pack it into the closet with the others. So I just stared at it… completely awestruck not only by the amount of time that had passed and how much had changed, but also by the giant presence that the tiny box had in the middle of my floor.
After a couple of hours I was tired of staring at it and walking around it as I went about my business. So I hoisted it onto my hip and decided to carry it up to the loft in my bedroom. I couldn’t put them away, yet I refused to be that girl… the one who still keeps stuffed animals lying around her bedroom… in her thirties.
Once in the loft I had two choices, put the box in the cabinet up there — which is much more accessible than my storage area in the basement thus allowing me to feel less guilty as I had not actually PACKED them away. Or I could remove them from the box entirely and place them on one of the loft’s shelves.
I deliberated for a moment, considering my options. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I picked up each one and studied it, gently wiping away a light layer of dust that had accumulated on their faces, clothing or fur. It was then that I decided to go for the latter. I am the only one who goes up there save for my nieces and nephews on occasion so it’s not like everyone who comes into my home would think I WAS “that girl”… the one who still keeps stuffed animals lying around her bedroom… in her thirties.
Seeing them out of the box and propped up on the shelf made me feel a little better. They were no longer boxed up and hidden like a past to be forgotten. They now had a place in the present. A place to be remembered when I wanted or needed to remember these great, old friends and probably more importantly… the person I was when I held them so dear.
9 thoughts on “Old Friends – Part II”
If I could find my original Mrs. Beasley doll whom I lost I would so put her on a shelf somewhere. I loved that doll so much. I’ll just say she was stolen during a move.
Sweet. I like how much thought you put into that. Having spent years where what I had needed to fit in one suitcase, I would have just taken them to the Salvation Army without thinking twice.
I wish I had a warm and fuzzy sentimental story about stuffed animals; however, you have been my inspiration for a future post … coming soon. I just hope none of these “old friends” are clowns. I would hate to think of you in a room with a clown. Makes me shiver. Don’t like the clowns at all!!!!
I HATE CLOWNS TOO!! Clowns and marionettes and nutcrackers and ventriloquist dummies… I know… I have issues 😉
Beautiful flow of conscienceness…in a “throw-away” society it is refreshing to be reminded that old friends should stay close whether stuffed or otherwise. Loved it.
I can say I am in my 30s and have one shelf in my bedroom for a few teddy bears I have kept. I feel it is okay to display, especially if they have a special meaning in your life. I recently watched Toy Story 3 and the no longer used toys of the boy are donated to the local day care center where they are not treated well at all. Good for you for displaying your treasures loud and proud:)
Thanks Renee. I know Toy Story always made me sad b/c the old toys were treated like, well… a bunch of old toys!
It’s funny that our past can conjure up so much emotion, even after years of of memories are piled atop them. i wonder…maybe dealing more with our past, is healthier than trying to forget, perhaps even a way to move forward in our future. Thank you for taking the proverbial cardboard box out of my closet, there are probably treasures that I need to re-examine 🙂
Thank you JT. I’m glad you liked it. Yes, it probably isn’t bad to take out the past every now and then and look it over. 🙂