But there was something different about this goodbye because it was the last one. "Baby" was one of those lamb Beanie Babies, sans the ears, tail, and nose. Most of the lamb-looking fabric had been rubbed and washed off and this Baby still resembled dirty dishwater even after a good soak in Tide. You can imagine what I went through when it came time to give Baby a bath. I remember watching my son chew on the ears when he was teething. And the time we forgot it at Grammy's and he had to wait several days to get it in the mail. Baby was there for the hospital stays, the naps, and every kiss goodnight in between. Baby even woke my youngest up with little baby smooches on his cheek, with a little help from Mom. Sigh. It was well past the time to stop all that, but for me, asking him to give up his little bed buddies was also putting an end to a precious time in my life as a mother.
Yesterday when the house was empty, I sat down to write a note to Baby. And when I folded the note and gave Baby a goodbye kiss, there was a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. I nestled her in the cedar chest next to Oma Bear, Momma Bear, my oldest son's shaggy blanket, and my raggedy stuffed rabbit from my childhood. I shut the lid and wondered, just like the Velveteen Rabbit, what they might be saying to each other as they wait for another child to love them in the distant future.
Margaret is married and has two children. Some of her passions are all types of music, flower gardening, biking, walking her dog on moonlit nights, nature, and making people laugh. She lives in Minnesota and never plans to leave no matter how cold the winters are.
Visit Margaret Rose at: Margaret Rose Writes