Life and the Joy of Unpacking

I finally finished moving all my stuff from one apartment to the next. Now comes the joy of unpacking.

It's kinda like Christmas, I get to open boxes that have who knows what inside of them. Yes, of course I'm one of those people who doesn't methodically label every box and carton..heck I have a ton of video tapes that I have no idea what I recorded on them, so why would I label boxes for moving LOL!

I also have some stuff I have to make a serious decision on as to whether or not it's time to let go of it. One of those major decisions involves my childhood and a teddy bear I've had since I was 4 years old. Harry began life as a present given to my 15 year old cousin from one of her 'boyfriends of the week'. At two foot in height, Harry was just a fraction taller than me. I loved him and his shiny blue fur at first sight. 'boyfriend of the week' and giver of said bear lasted longer than a week then he was replaced. Harry was then placed into my arms with the command to 'take this thing if you want it.'(he had been replaced by a stuff leopard named 'Delphy').

Harry and I became fast friends and constant companions. The years went by and a lifetime of absorbing tears, secrets and hugs had taken its toll on his shiny blue fur which was eventually worn threadbare. A bout of fiercely being dragged around by a insolent puppy with no respect for the owners treasured things while she was at work, left Harry with a gaping hole in his chest, an arm and leg missing and vital stuffing strewn around the floor. Major reconstructive surgery ensued, preformed by an understanding sister in law who gave Harry a new chest covering and a pair of men's athletic socks as a new arm and leg (we have the technology, we can rebuild him).

Today I have to decide if it's time to let go of Harry.

But how to do you look a thread bare teddy bear with a piece of blue valour over his chest, a pair of men's athletic socks doubling for an arm and a leg..who is not just filled with cotton stuffing, but a childhood full of memories (not to mention a few adult ones as well..it was into Harry's reconstructed chest that I sobbed out my grief over the loss of my mother those first few and terrible weeks after her death) in his trusting plastic eyes and tell him it's time to go?

The answer tomorrow.

M