I. Toy School Photo
The toys, most of them, have gathered this morning, one week after my father's death. I had thought it might be a memorial, but they are not interested in death:
they decided it was a school photo, like at the beginning of the school year.
(I don't know how the toys know things--it's very selective.)
I'm ready and wanting to get on with the Stuffed Needy Animal Rescue Project (SNARP), repairing and clothing them. Some aren't even re-stuffed yet. Tan bear with black ears (third from left, back row), has no stuffing at all.
scroll right, for full photo > > >
II. Repair
I want to say clearly that I'm sorry my father has died.
Until a few months ago, when liver cancer started to take him down, he was in robust good health for a man in his eighties, and he would have relished another six healthy years, like his sister, my auntie, who turns 92 next month.
I wish he'd had them.
But here's a thing I hadn't expected:
My relationship with my father has vastly improved, now that he's dead.
I liked many things about my father.
But all my life, I couldn't trust he'd be nice to me or to other people. When I was little, I never wanted to invite friends over. He might be very nice. Or he might not.
I never have to worry about that again.
The toys, most of them, have gathered this morning, one week after my father's death. I had thought it might be a memorial, but they are not interested in death:
they decided it was a school photo, like at the beginning of the school year.
(I don't know how the toys know things--it's very selective.)
I'm ready and wanting to get on with the Stuffed Needy Animal Rescue Project (SNARP), repairing and clothing them. Some aren't even re-stuffed yet. Tan bear with black ears (third from left, back row), has no stuffing at all.
scroll right, for full photo > > >
II. Repair
I want to say clearly that I'm sorry my father has died.
Until a few months ago, when liver cancer started to take him down, he was in robust good health for a man in his eighties, and he would have relished another six healthy years, like his sister, my auntie, who turns 92 next month.
I wish he'd had them.
But here's a thing I hadn't expected:
My relationship with my father has vastly improved, now that he's dead.
I liked many things about my father.
But all my life, I couldn't trust he'd be nice to me or to other people. When I was little, I never wanted to invite friends over. He might be very nice. Or he might not.
I never have to worry about that again.
So many sweeties...
ReplyDeleteYes! When they're cleaned up, I think some of the many sweeties may go live with other people. <3
ReplyDeleteSo these are what he had in his closet??? If yes, In a way, they've been liberated from the closet.
ReplyDeleteno, these are all MY toys!
ReplyDeletethe ones in my father's closet were infested with mold--and mildew--
i didn't even try to save them.
Oh I so hear you - I have been remembering my father when he was young and all of us were little, which is a pleasure, unlike remembering him in his frequently unhappy decline.
ReplyDelete