I may regret writing this, making this public, and revealing, even to myself, that after all these years, I found a car that is “cute”, and, worthy of being given a name. My older used car was recently declared too expensive to repair and continue driving. I have very recently been searching for a newer, younger, used car. A couple of weeks ago I believe I found The Car for me. I’ve always resisted feeling affectionate towards a car. Naming the car was out of the question. Until this car came along. I am enjoying the size, fairly small, compact, the color, a delicious blue-green, how the car feels while driving; I’ve never enjoyed driving a car. And, at this point in my life I am enjoying an automatic transmission. After years of stick shifts. No more clutch. I am still amazed that I can stay in Drive through all sorts of conditions. Anyhow, a few days ago someone asked me “are you going to name this car?” At first I resisted such a decision. Then, to my great surprise I realized with affection that this particular car deserved a name. I named the car after my sister and our maternal grandfather. So, though I shudder a bit, my emotional support(there are others) is currently Jesse, my little gem of a car. This may not be politically and socially correct, but here goes: when I was asked is the car a he or she, I quickly responded with “they”. That they is. 🏮
So happy you have found a car worthy of being named! May you and Jesse share many joyous rides together! Your post brought back the memory of my first car purchase in 1986... which was a 1977 Mazda GLC ("Great Little Car"). It was bright orange (not exactly my color choice) and had been "tricked out" in rust orange shag carpeting (ugh!) It was a bit dinged up, and already had over 150,000 in mileage. I quickly fell in love, and with a vision of Cinderella's carriage, started calling her the "Great Orange Pumpkin," - later shortened to just "Pumpkin." We spent the next five years together, - exploring the backroads of New England, navigating the tangles of city streets in Boston and grids of NYC, -in the olden days using paper maps! I cried when Pumpkin met her sad demise, but oh the adventures we had!
It's interesting, Becky, that while my Sonoran red Subaru Outback Sport doesn't have a name, she has a gender. When I pat the dashboard in thanks for being such a good car -- she's got way more than her share of troubles, which are a might expensive for me -- it's like patting her. .
My friend from Minesota originally named my first car: a 1971 baby blue Volkswagen beetle: The Blue Ryder. I had never named a car before, and I have not since, but I like the concept. We just leased a VW ID.4 an EV SUV. If I were to name it, I think it would be: 'too big.' We might as well get the van, then we could camp in it. Hmmm....
When I bought my first car I tried to name him Easton after an inside joke among my housemates, but every time I’d go to call the car Easton, Elliot would come out. So the car became Elliot. I always joked that he named himself!
I love this idea a lot! I think we all need (especially these days, fraught as they are) emotional support of some kind, and some days, there is no "alive" thing that is up to the task. What then? An ESC. may come in very handy! Suleika, your words, "It seemed to mirror my approach to all of the many fears I have swirling in my head—which is not to fight or try to change my reality, but to float and flow with the current" reminds me of a concept I learned intuitively when I was struggling with panic disorder and major depression back in the 1970s, and then later, as a psychotherapist, learned as a concept that had been highly researched. "Radical Acceptance," helped me back then and still today. Pushing away fear or sadness only strengthens it's hold. "Floating through it helps release it and is a very powerful tool that increases recovery.
I totally agree with you, Linda. Observing, nodding, and even honoring the fear helps to release it and move on. This real “seeing” the issue (fear, guilt, a stupid mistake…) helps me distance myself from it. I can process it from another vantage point and look down on it. Once I can separate myself from it to look at it, I’m one step closer to my Higher Self and I know that my Higher Self is who I really am. It’s like separating the real me from the flawed, scared, fearful me. It’s not the fear but the belief in the fear that does the damage. This little practice is freeing, as you also report. It helps me return to my mind, instead of the craziness of the world and the muck of my personal swamp. And I like peace better than muck.
Linda and Marge and Suleika…your posts resonated with my recent attempts to change my need to address and “fix” every issue. The concept of stepping back and allowing things to unfold floated into my mind suddenly while driving under the Verrazano Bridge the other day.
Ironically, the phrase I use to mitigate my financial or emotional stress/fear is” it’s not Cancer”. So, I am, of course, in awe of the reservoir of strength others are able to draw upon when faced with that reality.
I am grateful for this access to the honesty and trust extended in sharing our vulnerabilities and fears.
I am lucky enough to have grown up in a small house right next to the ocean and inherited said house when my Mom passed. Despite years of swimming and playing in the waves, I still maintain the fear of what is swimming near me or waiting underfoot. I have snorkeled in other places and found the beauty and other-worldliness underwater allows me to relax and enjoy the moment….until that devil”fear” reminds me i am getting too comfy.
My Emotional Support “Chicken” is my Golden Retriever, Woody. The only down side of which is living in a world of white dog hair. He wakes up every morning with a smile, wagging his tail, and reminding me how good it is to be alive and how joy is so easily found.
Love that. I work in sales for leadership development and get to attend school daily too as I listen to our subject matter experts/faculty work with our clients. From oil and gas to wineries, the issues are all similar. How lucky are we.
Yes, Linda, looking fear -- or whatever issue is after us -- in the eye is how we let it go, how we relax with what is, accept it. Yes, Radical acceptance, if you will. Great that you know this and are sharing it with other via your work. Cheers.
I have rescued so many different species. Objects bring memories and I love many. It is my kitty Olympia that is my emotional support- and each moment is special. I think it is because although adopted she was a kitten that almost died and needed a special home. However, when we first met she had survived. It has been 10 years of us-and we are bonded through a reckless move, pandemic, hostile neighbors, and a peaceful interior with some cracks.
Good morning, friends. Your story truly resonates with me, Suleika, as I too am terrified of deep water. At 17 I almost drown at the hands of three high school boys. Prior to that, I was a strong and joyful swimmer. Since that incident, now so many years ago, I am crippled by the fear of what I cannot see. It has not stopped me from jumping into a deep lake off the back of a boat with my grandchildren, or off the side of a cliff into a quarry. But the joy is absent and that makes me sad. In so many ways, that near drowning was like a rape. Something taken away from me. Against my will, my body victimized at the hands of three strong boys.
You will not be surprised that for me, a dog has always been my emotional support. As long as I can remember, I have found peace and comfort in the steadfast friendship and kindness of dogs. These days, with the holidays approaching and my children and I broken like shattered glass, I spend many minutes on the floor with him. When I arise, after tears or silence, I am grounded. Tethered to my life because of his.
Thank you, Laurie. I appreciate your words. Several years ago I began to write about it but clearly am blocked. I even bought a membership at a local club to force myself to get in the water. It's been months and I have yet to go. Some wounds, some fears, they just stay.
Years ago and for the first time in Puerto Rico my companion at the time and myself hired a guy with a boat to snorkel. Scared to death! How do I get into the water; the owner of the boat had us sit on edge of boat facing him and he pushed in backwards into the ocean. That was terrifying but when I calmed down & saw all the beautifully colored fish, holding hands with other snorklers, it felt like a small, intimate community. To me it was scary, beautiful and it became magical plus my love, Howard, who I was with created and write a poem to me to highlight this incredible experience. It takes great courage to be willing to face the unknown. This community has got that courage big time! Blessings to all ♥️
Swimming with Sharks. And Sting Rays even. So brave of you and what a wonderful way to suddenly hang with new creatures and realize how excellent and wonderful it all is. All part of the same planet. That is amazing and enlightening. And facing all those fears. Congratulations 🎉
And Linda and her chickens. Very touching and humorous too. I only knit a little but crochet mostly. I just saw a pattern for a crochet chicken much like Linda's. Pretty cute.
Thank you for sharing your life and insights on how to keep moving forward. Very appreciative and in awe of your courage. ♥️♥️
Maybe. I found a pattern but I have projects I must finish before Christmas. They are promised. I have never made amigurumi and the chicken is bigger. Just haven't decided yet.
i have a smooth marble-like stone, slightly oval, with a few light golden streaks, a little more than an inch up and down, a little less than an inch side-to-side. i know which way is up because the stone also has a face -- it juts out a little where a nose would be, has two chips for eyes, and a long squiggly line under the nose that makes the whole thing look just like a bald old man with no teeth. it has been polished by nature and retains warmth when i hold it. when i am worried and prayerful, i curl my hand around the stone as i fall asleep. the strangest thing is that when i wake up it's always still in my fist.
my father found the stone on a walk and gave it to me, pointing out the face. so this is what i reach for when i need emotional support, and it doesn't let me go until a new day begins.
Suleika, so glad you had a fantastic Thanksgiving holiday, and completed successful “exposure therapy “! You are “badass”. Now when it comes to emotional support animals, I have a house full of living, breathing pets who have not left my side since my cancer diagnosis. They even participate in Peloton workouts , and enjoy using iPads. I am not joking. Dash, Priya, and Pumpkin are the joys of my life, besides my grumpy ,and sometimes funny human family.
It’s funny, I went to Belize last year in the aftermath of a brutal panic attack brought on by the exhaustion and overwhelm of postpartum life. It was a of the ended-up-in-the-ER/scare-the-crap-out-of-my-kids-variety and it knocked me for six. I had to get on the plane to Belize the day after my ER adventure and the panic aftershocks were still rumbling through my body regularly. A few days in I was braced and wired and exhausted, I remember being in the water feeling the adrenaline surge when a voice in my head said ‘just float’. So I did. I stretched out, let my body soften and the water hold me. It became my practice. I bring myself back to that water, to floating, so often. It’s the simplest instruction when life is getting too much.
I also have panic attacks of that variety and appreciate your fortitude in getting on a plane to a new place the next day. How wonderful that you discovered floating as an antidote! I wish you well on your healing path. Navigating motherhood is challenging and I hope you will be kind to yourself through it all.
Swim with the sharks, are you chicken ................? YEP, I would never, ever, get into water knowing there were sharks. That Jaws thing scarred me for life as well but on the flip side my emotional go to is, will always be and has always been, chocolate........
That was the first thing I thought of! 😂 Although I don’t think there is enough chocolate in the world these last couple of months to completely smooth my distress! But, I’ll give it a try!!
In my twenties I took comfort in a tiger puppet that my friend bought me. I bought him the same one and we used to bring our puppets with us when we visited each other. When my son was born it lost meaning for me and I gave my puppet to my son. I doubt my friend still has his. Now I find other ways to get emotional support, I re-read supportive notes from those who care for me, and I talk to my husband or call a friend. My most recent discovery is writing “Dear Love” love letters to myself where I write to myself as if I am writing to a friend. I know all the right things to tell a friend and I am familiar with all the details of the my story.
November is that in between time here waiting to smell the snow. This year it marks the first anniversary of my dad's death from old age. Even though we saw him failing the loss hit me hard. I unexpectedly received a siamese cat stuffed toy which I named OG. Hugging her and seeing her calm "beigeness" brings me peace. I feel silly about it but OG allows me to be a child again.
I love your description of her calm "beigeness." I think emotional support objects are, by definition, allowed to be as silly or serious as we want. ❤️
So sorry for the death of your father. Today is my dad’s birthday. He would have been 104. He’s been gone for 31 years. I still miss him but the feelings have gradually changed into a deep appreciation that I had him in my life and gratitude for all the gifts he gave me.
I think your Siamese cat is adorable. It is the little things. My mum just passed (also of old age) and my family and I spent a week in Ireland just being together afterwards. I took so many pics of sheep on the hillsides. Now I wish I had bought a little cuddly lamb at the airport as I left. It is a place to channel our energy and remember the good times/loved ones
Good morning, everyone. What a delightful way to start a chilly, icy snow day here in the West Chilcotin of BC. Suleika - I heard Jon’s whale wailing and witnessed your wild eyed fear as I read out loud your shark tale to my husband Lee. Humorous. Insightful. Heartwarming. Thanks for the morning chuckles. Then to see my long time, fellow TIJer, Linda G.’s name appear on The Prompt page with her Emotional Support Chicken story filled me with bursting joy. Such fun. Thank you both for a delightful way to start the day. Well done.
I love this and just sat down to write about “Hannukah Bear,” a sweet little stuffed bear (with a Hannukah-themed little tee shirt) that our niece gave us many years ago. He is small and soft and easily stashed among socks and sweaters in a suitcase and so he is what you might call a “well-traveled bear”! Most especially, Hannukah Bear has been back and forth from Boston to Cleveland to visit my mom, including in some very scary and trying times, as well as the many times I was there alone in a hotel room or air bnb, missing my spouse and home.
Now that my mom is gone, Hanukah Bear often sits in my mom’s rocker in our living room, surrounded by my mom’s two larger bears, Chaucer and Oliver. But sometimes he migrates upstairs with me at night, or takes a trip to Maine or New Jersey…a steadfast little presence in my life.
I love Yolko Olno and the entire idea! I have never learned to knit, crochet or sew and now with permanent nerve damage in my right arm I never will learn. But I truly admire the work of those who do.
I am so claustrophobic I could never do anything like snorkeling but I admire Jon and Suleika who did it, in spite of their fears.
As for an emotional support system, I guess it would be certain dolls I collect. I mostly get them from yard sales and thrift stores. My heart goes out to certain ones and I must take them home. I am 77 years old and have children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. But I also have certain dolls who have a special place in my heart as well. Maybe because I never got many dolls as a child?
My family went together and bought me an American Girl doll one year. Even though I appreciated them doing it, I never felt the strong attachment to it like ones I found myself in thrift stores and yard sales.
I may regret writing this, making this public, and revealing, even to myself, that after all these years, I found a car that is “cute”, and, worthy of being given a name. My older used car was recently declared too expensive to repair and continue driving. I have very recently been searching for a newer, younger, used car. A couple of weeks ago I believe I found The Car for me. I’ve always resisted feeling affectionate towards a car. Naming the car was out of the question. Until this car came along. I am enjoying the size, fairly small, compact, the color, a delicious blue-green, how the car feels while driving; I’ve never enjoyed driving a car. And, at this point in my life I am enjoying an automatic transmission. After years of stick shifts. No more clutch. I am still amazed that I can stay in Drive through all sorts of conditions. Anyhow, a few days ago someone asked me “are you going to name this car?” At first I resisted such a decision. Then, to my great surprise I realized with affection that this particular car deserved a name. I named the car after my sister and our maternal grandfather. So, though I shudder a bit, my emotional support(there are others) is currently Jesse, my little gem of a car. This may not be politically and socially correct, but here goes: when I was asked is the car a he or she, I quickly responded with “they”. That they is. 🏮
So happy you have found a car worthy of being named! May you and Jesse share many joyous rides together! Your post brought back the memory of my first car purchase in 1986... which was a 1977 Mazda GLC ("Great Little Car"). It was bright orange (not exactly my color choice) and had been "tricked out" in rust orange shag carpeting (ugh!) It was a bit dinged up, and already had over 150,000 in mileage. I quickly fell in love, and with a vision of Cinderella's carriage, started calling her the "Great Orange Pumpkin," - later shortened to just "Pumpkin." We spent the next five years together, - exploring the backroads of New England, navigating the tangles of city streets in Boston and grids of NYC, -in the olden days using paper maps! I cried when Pumpkin met her sad demise, but oh the adventures we had!
My father named his cars and I do too. My little Subaru Forester is a Jasmine green and so naturally I named her Jasmine and Jazzy for short.
It's interesting, Becky, that while my Sonoran red Subaru Outback Sport doesn't have a name, she has a gender. When I pat the dashboard in thanks for being such a good car -- she's got way more than her share of troubles, which are a might expensive for me -- it's like patting her. .
Oh, to laugh and giggle so early morning is a wonderful sign. ( Not to mention the pink sunrise). Thank you for this sweet story.
Oh of course you must name said car!! We also name all our homes that we have lived in💙💙💙
My car is Fiona Focus. She's an old black 4 door ford.
My friend from Minesota originally named my first car: a 1971 baby blue Volkswagen beetle: The Blue Ryder. I had never named a car before, and I have not since, but I like the concept. We just leased a VW ID.4 an EV SUV. If I were to name it, I think it would be: 'too big.' We might as well get the van, then we could camp in it. Hmmm....
My Grace (a gray HRV) welcomes Jesse! I've always named my cars and I treat them like family. 🤣
When I bought my first car I tried to name him Easton after an inside joke among my housemates, but every time I’d go to call the car Easton, Elliot would come out. So the car became Elliot. I always joked that he named himself!
I love this idea a lot! I think we all need (especially these days, fraught as they are) emotional support of some kind, and some days, there is no "alive" thing that is up to the task. What then? An ESC. may come in very handy! Suleika, your words, "It seemed to mirror my approach to all of the many fears I have swirling in my head—which is not to fight or try to change my reality, but to float and flow with the current" reminds me of a concept I learned intuitively when I was struggling with panic disorder and major depression back in the 1970s, and then later, as a psychotherapist, learned as a concept that had been highly researched. "Radical Acceptance," helped me back then and still today. Pushing away fear or sadness only strengthens it's hold. "Floating through it helps release it and is a very powerful tool that increases recovery.
I totally agree with you, Linda. Observing, nodding, and even honoring the fear helps to release it and move on. This real “seeing” the issue (fear, guilt, a stupid mistake…) helps me distance myself from it. I can process it from another vantage point and look down on it. Once I can separate myself from it to look at it, I’m one step closer to my Higher Self and I know that my Higher Self is who I really am. It’s like separating the real me from the flawed, scared, fearful me. It’s not the fear but the belief in the fear that does the damage. This little practice is freeing, as you also report. It helps me return to my mind, instead of the craziness of the world and the muck of my personal swamp. And I like peace better than muck.
Linda and Marge and Suleika…your posts resonated with my recent attempts to change my need to address and “fix” every issue. The concept of stepping back and allowing things to unfold floated into my mind suddenly while driving under the Verrazano Bridge the other day.
Ironically, the phrase I use to mitigate my financial or emotional stress/fear is” it’s not Cancer”. So, I am, of course, in awe of the reservoir of strength others are able to draw upon when faced with that reality.
I am grateful for this access to the honesty and trust extended in sharing our vulnerabilities and fears.
I am lucky enough to have grown up in a small house right next to the ocean and inherited said house when my Mom passed. Despite years of swimming and playing in the waves, I still maintain the fear of what is swimming near me or waiting underfoot. I have snorkeled in other places and found the beauty and other-worldliness underwater allows me to relax and enjoy the moment….until that devil”fear” reminds me i am getting too comfy.
My Emotional Support “Chicken” is my Golden Retriever, Woody. The only down side of which is living in a world of white dog hair. He wakes up every morning with a smile, wagging his tail, and reminding me how good it is to be alive and how joy is so easily found.
Love this!!
I so agree with you Marge. And I love how you explained it!
They should teach the concept the idea of radical acceptance in school. How about a life schools course? It would probably save us years of angst
Somehow I think my whole life is a school and I get to take some of the course many, many times. Ha!
Love that. I work in sales for leadership development and get to attend school daily too as I listen to our subject matter experts/faculty work with our clients. From oil and gas to wineries, the issues are all similar. How lucky are we.
I teach something called DBT skills and have always thought they should be taught as early as elementary school.
Yes, Linda, looking fear -- or whatever issue is after us -- in the eye is how we let it go, how we relax with what is, accept it. Yes, Radical acceptance, if you will. Great that you know this and are sharing it with other via your work. Cheers.
I have rescued so many different species. Objects bring memories and I love many. It is my kitty Olympia that is my emotional support- and each moment is special. I think it is because although adopted she was a kitten that almost died and needed a special home. However, when we first met she had survived. It has been 10 years of us-and we are bonded through a reckless move, pandemic, hostile neighbors, and a peaceful interior with some cracks.
Good morning, friends. Your story truly resonates with me, Suleika, as I too am terrified of deep water. At 17 I almost drown at the hands of three high school boys. Prior to that, I was a strong and joyful swimmer. Since that incident, now so many years ago, I am crippled by the fear of what I cannot see. It has not stopped me from jumping into a deep lake off the back of a boat with my grandchildren, or off the side of a cliff into a quarry. But the joy is absent and that makes me sad. In so many ways, that near drowning was like a rape. Something taken away from me. Against my will, my body victimized at the hands of three strong boys.
You will not be surprised that for me, a dog has always been my emotional support. As long as I can remember, I have found peace and comfort in the steadfast friendship and kindness of dogs. These days, with the holidays approaching and my children and I broken like shattered glass, I spend many minutes on the floor with him. When I arise, after tears or silence, I am grounded. Tethered to my life because of his.
I am so sorry for what those boys did
Thank you. You are very kind. It was also the last time I wore a two piece suit. I just now put that together!!!
Dreadful. Kids can be so cruel.
I’m so sorry that happened to you Jacqueline. Those boys did a terrible terrible thing.
Thank you, Laurie. I appreciate your words. Several years ago I began to write about it but clearly am blocked. I even bought a membership at a local club to force myself to get in the water. It's been months and I have yet to go. Some wounds, some fears, they just stay.
Years ago and for the first time in Puerto Rico my companion at the time and myself hired a guy with a boat to snorkel. Scared to death! How do I get into the water; the owner of the boat had us sit on edge of boat facing him and he pushed in backwards into the ocean. That was terrifying but when I calmed down & saw all the beautifully colored fish, holding hands with other snorklers, it felt like a small, intimate community. To me it was scary, beautiful and it became magical plus my love, Howard, who I was with created and write a poem to me to highlight this incredible experience. It takes great courage to be willing to face the unknown. This community has got that courage big time! Blessings to all ♥️
Swimming with Sharks. And Sting Rays even. So brave of you and what a wonderful way to suddenly hang with new creatures and realize how excellent and wonderful it all is. All part of the same planet. That is amazing and enlightening. And facing all those fears. Congratulations 🎉
And Linda and her chickens. Very touching and humorous too. I only knit a little but crochet mostly. I just saw a pattern for a crochet chicken much like Linda's. Pretty cute.
Thank you for sharing your life and insights on how to keep moving forward. Very appreciative and in awe of your courage. ♥️♥️
I don’t crochet but I bet you could find a crochet pattern for a chicken.
Susan, are you going to crochet a chicken? I’m eager to know more!
Maybe. I found a pattern but I have projects I must finish before Christmas. They are promised. I have never made amigurumi and the chicken is bigger. Just haven't decided yet.
i have a smooth marble-like stone, slightly oval, with a few light golden streaks, a little more than an inch up and down, a little less than an inch side-to-side. i know which way is up because the stone also has a face -- it juts out a little where a nose would be, has two chips for eyes, and a long squiggly line under the nose that makes the whole thing look just like a bald old man with no teeth. it has been polished by nature and retains warmth when i hold it. when i am worried and prayerful, i curl my hand around the stone as i fall asleep. the strangest thing is that when i wake up it's always still in my fist.
my father found the stone on a walk and gave it to me, pointing out the face. so this is what i reach for when i need emotional support, and it doesn't let me go until a new day begins.
Just reading this description of your stone soothed me! ❤️
I carry a marble 24/7. Occasionally when I see someone I love I give it up and pick another out of my jar.
indeed. i just sent another special polished stone to a friend in germany who needs comfort.
Suleika, so glad you had a fantastic Thanksgiving holiday, and completed successful “exposure therapy “! You are “badass”. Now when it comes to emotional support animals, I have a house full of living, breathing pets who have not left my side since my cancer diagnosis. They even participate in Peloton workouts , and enjoy using iPads. I am not joking. Dash, Priya, and Pumpkin are the joys of my life, besides my grumpy ,and sometimes funny human family.
It’s funny, I went to Belize last year in the aftermath of a brutal panic attack brought on by the exhaustion and overwhelm of postpartum life. It was a of the ended-up-in-the-ER/scare-the-crap-out-of-my-kids-variety and it knocked me for six. I had to get on the plane to Belize the day after my ER adventure and the panic aftershocks were still rumbling through my body regularly. A few days in I was braced and wired and exhausted, I remember being in the water feeling the adrenaline surge when a voice in my head said ‘just float’. So I did. I stretched out, let my body soften and the water hold me. It became my practice. I bring myself back to that water, to floating, so often. It’s the simplest instruction when life is getting too much.
Beautiful. ❤️
I need to remember and tell others about "just float when life gets to be too much."
Hope you are feeling your best now
I also have panic attacks of that variety and appreciate your fortitude in getting on a plane to a new place the next day. How wonderful that you discovered floating as an antidote! I wish you well on your healing path. Navigating motherhood is challenging and I hope you will be kind to yourself through it all.
Swim with the sharks, are you chicken ................? YEP, I would never, ever, get into water knowing there were sharks. That Jaws thing scarred me for life as well but on the flip side my emotional go to is, will always be and has always been, chocolate........
That was the first thing I thought of! 😂 Although I don’t think there is enough chocolate in the world these last couple of months to completely smooth my distress! But, I’ll give it a try!!
Plain ol fact, not enough chocolate for soothing recent roller coaster rides. When choc. is in short supply though -ECLAIRS :)
In my twenties I took comfort in a tiger puppet that my friend bought me. I bought him the same one and we used to bring our puppets with us when we visited each other. When my son was born it lost meaning for me and I gave my puppet to my son. I doubt my friend still has his. Now I find other ways to get emotional support, I re-read supportive notes from those who care for me, and I talk to my husband or call a friend. My most recent discovery is writing “Dear Love” love letters to myself where I write to myself as if I am writing to a friend. I know all the right things to tell a friend and I am familiar with all the details of the my story.
November is that in between time here waiting to smell the snow. This year it marks the first anniversary of my dad's death from old age. Even though we saw him failing the loss hit me hard. I unexpectedly received a siamese cat stuffed toy which I named OG. Hugging her and seeing her calm "beigeness" brings me peace. I feel silly about it but OG allows me to be a child again.
I love your description of her calm "beigeness." I think emotional support objects are, by definition, allowed to be as silly or serious as we want. ❤️
So sorry for the death of your father. Today is my dad’s birthday. He would have been 104. He’s been gone for 31 years. I still miss him but the feelings have gradually changed into a deep appreciation that I had him in my life and gratitude for all the gifts he gave me.
I think your Siamese cat is adorable. It is the little things. My mum just passed (also of old age) and my family and I spent a week in Ireland just being together afterwards. I took so many pics of sheep on the hillsides. Now I wish I had bought a little cuddly lamb at the airport as I left. It is a place to channel our energy and remember the good times/loved ones
Update: Just spoke to my friend and he still has Hobbs.
I wish I had kept his sister!
Amazing!
Your tiger reminds me of Calvin and Hobbs.
Yes my friend’s tiger was named Hobbs and mine was Ms. Hobson!
Good morning, everyone. What a delightful way to start a chilly, icy snow day here in the West Chilcotin of BC. Suleika - I heard Jon’s whale wailing and witnessed your wild eyed fear as I read out loud your shark tale to my husband Lee. Humorous. Insightful. Heartwarming. Thanks for the morning chuckles. Then to see my long time, fellow TIJer, Linda G.’s name appear on The Prompt page with her Emotional Support Chicken story filled me with bursting joy. Such fun. Thank you both for a delightful way to start the day. Well done.
❤️❤️❤️
I love this and just sat down to write about “Hannukah Bear,” a sweet little stuffed bear (with a Hannukah-themed little tee shirt) that our niece gave us many years ago. He is small and soft and easily stashed among socks and sweaters in a suitcase and so he is what you might call a “well-traveled bear”! Most especially, Hannukah Bear has been back and forth from Boston to Cleveland to visit my mom, including in some very scary and trying times, as well as the many times I was there alone in a hotel room or air bnb, missing my spouse and home.
Now that my mom is gone, Hanukah Bear often sits in my mom’s rocker in our living room, surrounded by my mom’s two larger bears, Chaucer and Oliver. But sometimes he migrates upstairs with me at night, or takes a trip to Maine or New Jersey…a steadfast little presence in my life.
He's there if you need him. ❤️
I love Yolko Olno and the entire idea! I have never learned to knit, crochet or sew and now with permanent nerve damage in my right arm I never will learn. But I truly admire the work of those who do.
I am so claustrophobic I could never do anything like snorkeling but I admire Jon and Suleika who did it, in spite of their fears.
As for an emotional support system, I guess it would be certain dolls I collect. I mostly get them from yard sales and thrift stores. My heart goes out to certain ones and I must take them home. I am 77 years old and have children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. But I also have certain dolls who have a special place in my heart as well. Maybe because I never got many dolls as a child?
It is wise to give yourself those dolls and cherish them. I have always sorta wanted an American Girl Doll, lol. I had forgotten about that.
My family went together and bought me an American Girl doll one year. Even though I appreciated them doing it, I never felt the strong attachment to it like ones I found myself in thrift stores and yard sales.
Whew, Suleika, you’ve embraced “YOLO” to the full! If that’s not an inspiration to step out of perceived safety, I don’t know what is. 🦈 👀
Linda, the chicken!! I generally avoid bandwagons, but sure caved to that one! Mine is named Loretta L’Hen! 🐓🧶
The chickens! Thanks, Linda. And Suleika, for the inspiration to do something scary.