Bunny jumped ship this week.
Did he really? That is, did he mean to do it or was it a mistake: a moment, perhaps, of inattention? I can’t speak to his mental state, but what should have been a flawlessly executed one-night layover at our house with an on-time departure the next morning, instead degenerated into a mad scramble to the post office, to reunite Bunny ASAP with his already departed two-year-old BFF.
As I stuffed Bunny into a box, I wondered again why we let kids get attached to particular stuffed animals–so much so that they can’t go to sleep without said stuffie. Surely being two years old is sufficiently challenging without having to deal with the risk of loss.
Why love if losing hurts so much?
I have no answers anymore, only the life I have lived.
Twice in that life I’ve been given the choice:
as a boy and as a man.
The boy chose safety, the man chooses suffering.
The pain now is part of the happiness then. That’s the deal.
– Anthony Hopkins as C.S. Lewis in Shadowlands
Of course, the temporary loss of a Bunny or equivalent can’t be compared to the permanent loss of a parent or spouse. Or can it? “Temporary” looks markedly different at 2 and 72.
The question isn’t why we let kids get attached to things they can lose, but how we think we could stop them. We can’t, not really: We are built to love. In a healthy environment that it would be nice to think is the norm, we start with our parents and then add others who are a regular and positive presence in our lives: family members, friends of our parents, our own friends, daycare workers, teachers, neighbours, and, yes, in the early days, Bunny.
Love is what makes us fully human. The pain of loss is the price of admission. How lucky we are when the loss can be rectified with just the price of a stamp.
Lovely.
Mary – Thank you.
Isabel
Such a good article. Grief is the price we pay for having loved.
Tom
Tom – Thank you. I don’t think Lewis wrote those words (I expect it was the screenwriter or biographer) but they sure seem true to his philosophy.
We are geared for attachment. A good thing. Perhaps we don’t always attach to the right thing or person, but that is part of life, too.
Judith – 🙂 Indeed.
It is said that grief is like a stone you carry in your pocket. Over time, it feels lighter, but it is just you getting stronger.
Barbara – That’s lovely – and seems true, besides.
What an adventure Bunny is having!
Travel will broaden him. 😀
Barbara – 🙂 A Bunny of the world. A Bunny about town.
Absolutely beautiful. Thanks Isabel.
Lorna – Thank *you*.