Yes, this is a pink pony. Mine was a yellow lamb.
She was brought home to me, in preparation for a birthday party. I, along with my closest friends had banged the heck out of a red, white and blue star on the 4th of July... and Mama and Daddy thought such an activity would be perfect for my big day.
There was one thing they forgot.
And that's the sentimentality of their daughter, who had consuming empathy for all creatures and a multitude of inanimate objects.
The first thing I did was name her. It was obvious to me that she was a "she", but I vascillated over whether she was "Mary" or "Lammy". (Remind me to tell you about my favorite stuffed animal whose name is 'Deery'. For the time being, I'll let you guess what animal he actually is). I was nothing, if not clever.
Needless to say, Mary Lammy was put away safely on the big day, and I would have gladly been hung from a tree limb and pounded with a stick to protect my precious ewe.
Mary Lammy was moved carefully in Mama's car, along with all of my treasures too delicate to pack, from my pre- to post- fourth grade home.
She lived a comfortable life in my second floor flat (bedroom) for many years, before finding her way into the guest flat (bedroom). As teenagers, you see, we each needed our personal space.
Several years after my father passed from this life, with Mama in a long term care facility, and when we were clearing that home of all its furnishings, its memories, its treasures... I found Mary Lammy in the closet of the guest bedroom. Clearly, after I left home, Mother had felt comfortable in exiling her, and while I might have felt slightly offended, I found comfort in the fact that she hadn't thrown the old gal out.
The day was emotional for me, more emotional than I can begin to describe.
I had limited space... in the truck I had rented, as well as the tiny townhouse and storage unit with which I had been forced to 'make do' (because of other losses, 'nother story, 'nother day).
And I had limited time. I won't go into the reasons, because it is a source of real contention and pain. They are reasons with which I have come to terms and accepted. And I have forgiven the other parties involved. So I shan't say more than... I was in a huge hurry.
And there was Mary Lammy. What to do, what to do... I struggled. Today, I'm sad to say that I left her behind, because today, for whatever crazy reason, she's on my mind... and I miss her.
I cried every one of the 155 miles home that day, and for many days of many years thereafter. I left a lot of myself behind that day. Today I'm grateful that I can recall, with fondness, a tiny portion of that self, my former life.
While 'googling' the internet, hoping to find a yellow lamb pinata... I encountered the pink pony, who shares similar eyes and the same size and build... though, Mary Lammy's legs were straight as boards. I'll admit... if my searches had yielded even a remote facsimile, she would be on her way to me... express shipping. I can only assume that she would then either reside in my toy/memory/exercise room... or occupy a place of honor in the guest bedroom!
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