Friday, February 14, 2014


Reposted from an old journal, in honor of Valentine's Day . . .

It is a beautiful sight, my daughter cuddling with her Bun-bun.

When she was small, I often worried about her because she hadn't formed an attachment with any of her stuffed animals "friends." She loved them all, but none exclusively above the others. Then, one day, she chose her bunny as her favorite.

She dragged him by the ears back and forth across the house and just when I thought all of the stuffing would come out of him if she didn't stop, she would suddenly clutch him tightly to her chest and squeeze him. I knew it was true love.

"Bun-bun," she would call out in anguish when she couldn't find him, "Where are yooooou?" And she would search the house until she would either find him, or be forced to conclude the search because she was crying too much to continue. 

Years later she still carries her Bun-bun with her and still cries when she cannot find him. "Mama," she asked me this evening right before bed, "If you find him tonight while I am sleeping, will you still give him to me? Because he is real, you know. Really real." And then she whispered, "And he is not as good as Fuzzy or my other stuffed animals." 

And to think that I was once concerned about her.

- - - - -

This was written six years ago, and though she no longer sobs when she loses her Bun-bun, the concern is evident.

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