Ava's Beanie Babies
As I wrote about in this journal entry: June 18, 2006, Annette has gotten us involved in MISS Foundation's Kindness Project.
I left two more Beanie Babies anonymously last week, in Ava's memory. I always keep a few in my truck, ready to go, with the tags tied on with either sage green or lavender ribbon, and the URL for Ava's website written on the back. When I returned to my truck after grocery shopping, I saw that an SUV had parked beside me, with an infant car seat in the back. So, I looked around, saw no one was paying attention, grabbed the first beanie baby I could reach -- a monkey -- and jammed it in the door handle, then took a picture for Annette. As I was pulling away I remembered when Annette was about 3, she sat on Santa's lap and confidently asked him to bring her a box of crayons and a monkey. A monkey. She was so disappointed to receive toy monkeys that Christmas, since only a real monkey would do. I got to wondering what kind of quirks would Ava had had -- what would she do or say to leave us shaking our heads and laughing. Every child has them -- strange quirks or comments or beliefs that are just so funny, and end up being told by family members over & over again. What would Ava's have been? Would she have been one of those children that inexplicably latches on to some weird object -- like a hairbrush or Andy's boxers -- as her comfort item? What would her personality have been like? Outgoing or shy? Would she have been a girlie-girl, loving pink and ruffles and princesses and dolls, or a unruly tomboy, with ripped knee jeans, a dirt-smudged face, and frogs in her pockets. All we can do is wonder.
I left the second beanie baby in the door handle of a car parked in front of mine at Walmart on Friday, on my way to camp.
All I hope is that whoever I give these Beanie Babies to hugs their own children a little tighter, and appreciates them a little more. And that Ava's memory brings a little light into someone else's life, if even for a day.
I left two more Beanie Babies anonymously last week, in Ava's memory. I always keep a few in my truck, ready to go, with the tags tied on with either sage green or lavender ribbon, and the URL for Ava's website written on the back. When I returned to my truck after grocery shopping, I saw that an SUV had parked beside me, with an infant car seat in the back. So, I looked around, saw no one was paying attention, grabbed the first beanie baby I could reach -- a monkey -- and jammed it in the door handle, then took a picture for Annette. As I was pulling away I remembered when Annette was about 3, she sat on Santa's lap and confidently asked him to bring her a box of crayons and a monkey. A monkey. She was so disappointed to receive toy monkeys that Christmas, since only a real monkey would do. I got to wondering what kind of quirks would Ava had had -- what would she do or say to leave us shaking our heads and laughing. Every child has them -- strange quirks or comments or beliefs that are just so funny, and end up being told by family members over & over again. What would Ava's have been? Would she have been one of those children that inexplicably latches on to some weird object -- like a hairbrush or Andy's boxers -- as her comfort item? What would her personality have been like? Outgoing or shy? Would she have been a girlie-girl, loving pink and ruffles and princesses and dolls, or a unruly tomboy, with ripped knee jeans, a dirt-smudged face, and frogs in her pockets. All we can do is wonder.
I left the second beanie baby in the door handle of a car parked in front of mine at Walmart on Friday, on my way to camp.
All I hope is that whoever I give these Beanie Babies to hugs their own children a little tighter, and appreciates them a little more. And that Ava's memory brings a little light into someone else's life, if even for a day.