A New Project - Dear Snuggles

Well, I've decided I've neglected my little corner of the internet for long enough. I miss being here and I miss putting my thoughts into words and I miss all of you (is anyone still out there?). So, in order to help myself keep up with writing and visit here much more often, I'm trying a new project.

Every Wednesday (possibly more, but let's just start with one day) I'm going to post a writing prompt and... well... write about it. I know, it's totally different than what you're used to seeing here at Little Pink, but I promise it will be interesting. I'm going to start with a relatively simple one, to ease myself into this new idea.

So without further ado, let's just jump into this, shall we?

PROMPT: Write a love letter to an inanimate object that explores why you appreciate what you're writing about, what its special qualities are.

Dear Snuggles,

My nearest and dearest, the fuzziest, snuggliest non-breathing friend, I write to you with the most sincere appreciation for your life long friendship. As my first toy, you had quite a lot to live up to. How long would you last? Would you end up in the garbage, at a yard sale, passed on to a new child, or quietly ruminating in an adult's bedroom? No one knew then that it would be the latter. No one realized that your soft brown fur and beady eyes would provide one girl comfort for an eternity. No one expected your Steiff tag to be a source of pride for an Army brat born in a cold country she no longer remembers. No one could have possibly known that your plush body would hold the scents of true home, the most comforting aroma to breathe in.

I expect when you arrived with me that you were actually larger than me. As a new babe, you might have been ginormous, unfortunately I can't remember our first meeting. I know with certainty, however, that I was never fearful of you, regardless of how much larger than me you might have been. I know that you accompanied me on a transatlantic flight and I wonder if you helped me feel safe.

As I grew, I could not sleep without you by my side. You traveled with me to many a sleepover parties and handled squealing girls like a champ. I accidentally dropped you in a mud puddle before Rose's birthday party. I really wanted to go, but there was no way I was staying over without you. Thankfully, my mom took you home and washed you and brought you back to me. I wonder if you would have appreciated that night off? Or did you feel as lost without me as I you when we were apart?

I needed surgery in second grade. Tonsils and adenoids, no big deal. I was allowed to bring one "comfort object" but at first the surgical team didn't want to let you come with me because of your glass eyes and metal tag. I assured them you were the only one I wanted, needed rather, by my side and somehow they waiver. Maybe mom took you before I went to surgery but I know you were next to me when I awoke and let out a scream. I bet you remember that scream. Like my mom, you probably wonder how in the world I could scream like that after having surgery on my throat.

I held you during awkward teen years, squeezed you during breakups, confided all my secrets in your ever-listening ears and knew all my fears, pain, anguish, and insanity were safe with you. You followed me to college, and it's probably best that no one else can hear your sweet whispers because oh, the stories you could tell. I'm sorry I subjected you to that.

You accompanied me when I moved and found a spot in our bedroom in North Carolina. You watched my belly swell as new life grew inside me and you probably wondered if you would befriend this new child, as well. You were clutched under my arm as I headed off to the hospital to meet our new friend. In anxious anticipation you watched her enter the world and I'm sure both our hearts grew exponentially.

You probably still wonder if I will someday pass you on to our little friend, but I've selfishly kept you for myself. Maybe one day I will find it within me to surrender you to my most prized person but for now I let her visit while I keep a close eye on your whereabouts.

And when I need you most, I hug you close and inhale deeply, flooded with scents, memories, and feelings of home and comfort.

Words cannot thank you enough, my dear Snuggles, for being the epitome of a "comfort object." You encompass all things a teddy bear should and you are not only an object to me, but my friend.

With much love and adoration,
Rachel