(if any part of this story seems oddly familiar then I have a bit of news for you. I published a very similar story/article in Ezine Magazine about 10 years ago. Strangest thing happened. I was watching a commercial one day about a little boy who lost his teddy bear " Tony" at a hotel and it was mailed back to him etc. I can't remember the product being advertised. I thought, this is beyond coincident. The script writer is a well known writer in Hollywood. I wrote to him and said "did you snag my story from my article? He never answered, but the commercial was taken down immediately. Amazing)
Children do get depressed, or blue at times. Once upon a time, a four year old with a curly mop of hair, needed a bunny hug. How fortunate she was to have such a wise and comforting fluffy blue companion. You can't buy one of those on every street corner. James Stewart had Harvey (Movie: Harvey 1950) but I had Tony. My sweet valiant friend.
My parents say, Tony arrived in an Basket on my third Easter Holiday. It was a perfect gift. He was a handsome blue eared friend and he had black button eyes that reflected such knowing. Over the years he faded and had mustard stains. When I found him in a box as an adult, he was so small and used looking. I held a once iconic friend in my hands and it looked like a very small grey toy rabbit that held no significance at all. And yet Tony caused a hotel staff to look everywhere for him. There was no peace until he was found and Federal Expressed back to me. Now that is power alright! He went with me on all the family vacations.
Tony was with me in my overnight bag when I stayed with my Grandparents. He really enjoyed being around them just as much as I did. Grandmother asked me, "why do you call him Tony"? I explained that he told me his name was Tony and I never questioned it beyond that. My Grandmother seemed distressed saying, "that is a "mob" name." I am laughing as an adult. She probably saw the Godfather trilogy. My brow crunched up and I retorted "Tony is very brave and he will not let the mob get me, so don't worry about that." I could always speak my truth with Tony by my side.
Tony and I had many grand adventures. I told him everything. He held onto my precious secrets for about five years. Then he went into an old toy box around age eight. It hardly seems appropriate or fitting to bury and old friend like that. He helped me survive childhood in a way no adult could have. He was my "brain trust", My Confidant, My Mentor, My Advisor, My Cheerleader, in general the one who held my hand through every trying moment until age eight happened.
At age eight, I had a 3rd grade teacher who took me under her wing. She saw something in me that everyone else might have missed. Everyone but Tony did not seem to see the real me. It is amazing what one teacher can do. But ...before age eight,
I had to hide in the closet sometimes with Tony. My Mom had quite a temper at times. We were scared hiding in the dark as well as under the bed for hours. Eventually, my Dad came home and Tony and I would run to meet him. I am pretty sure Tony loved my Dad as much as I did.
There was no such thing as sleep without Tony in my bed. He was my Guardian Supreme while I slept. There was no need to say any other prayer. There are worrisome prayers that say things like "if I should die before I wake". I knew without a doubt Tony would not let that happen. He was fearless in the dark. Tony understood my angst as we were read Dr. Seuss books. Often there were things stacked precariously almost ready to topple over. An elephant would be standing on an imbalanced table. Several items would be stacked all wrong on a tray. I was an expert at age five on stacking things to climb up into my closet. I had fallen and knocked the wind out of me once. That was an out of body experience not to be repeated.
Tony was able to magically take away pain when I was in the hospital. He put a blue bubble around me and I was warm and pain free. I had frequent hospital visits up to about age eight. those were the tough years. Age four to eight.
At age four I had pneumonia. I was ready to check out and Tony understood that it might be ok for me to die. I was on my way out, when I heard my mother praying. She said, I am sorry that I have not been a good mother. We, Tony and I, decided to give her a second chance. She looked at me with love in her eyes. I had never seen that before. The next day...
I was alone in the hospital room except for Tony. A very handsome doctor walked in and pushed my hair back to look at me. He had the nurse fix my hair and they all complimented me on how pretty I looked. I loved that doctor and wanted to go home with him. That doctor talked to my Grandparents when they came to visit.
At age eight I moved in with my Grandparents when my parents were divorcing. At age eight I went to a small private school my Grandparents paid for. At age eight had so many new friends at my new school. I blogged about going from autistic to brilliant in two years and it is the absolute truth.
http://angelbell444.blogspot.com/2012/11/my-childhood-journey-from-autism-to.html
How can I tell Tony, whoever that enchanted soul was, thank you. Without you Tony I would not have made it to age Eight.
I would like to comment here about my Mother, now deceased. We never had the discussion we needed to have on earth. As a therapist in training, I would diagnose her as a Borderline Personality. That diagnosis has some stigma, and she was very resistant to getting psychological help or labels. It was tried and suggested by my Father, and my Grandparents and perhaps others I do not know about. This is not a tell all because Mom had some very creative qualities and she was able to love one of my two boys and not the other one. She decided she could only care about one. That was an interesting thing to have to explain to my youngest son. I didn't understand her logic many times. I forgive all that happened because I totally understand Borderline Personality Disorder and I do very well with people suffering from that diagnosis. It is all about loyalty to them and they have such fear of abandonment. My Mother would react violently to any perception of dis-loyalty. I would get an ulcer prior to Mother's Day each year. I had to really be psychic and know what was expected. I can relax now and I can say, I must have chosen her for a big life lesson, hope I don't need to repeat it.
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