Pooh

Childhood memories are the best memories for many people. For others, these memories bring grief and heartache. Loss of family, friends, and innocence plagues the hearts of those from many walks of life. We learn to live with the pain and the regret hoping to discover ways to make the most out of our brokenness. Everyone has brokenness of some kind, I suppose. We live in an imperfect world so the best we can do is to take each day one day at a time and live that day to the fullest.

As children, we had the luxury of escaping into enchanted worlds of make believe. For some the enchanted world provided a place to play for a time, but for others the enchanted world provided a break from the harsh realities of living. The most difficult times, then, would be those where you would have to leave the enchantment and come into the circle of life others were a part of each day.

Bedtime was always the scariest time of day for me. All day long I could hide and pretend to be the person I wanted others to know. Bedtime, though, was different because as sleep encroached upon my private world, I knew I would lose the ability to be in control of my existence. I fought sleep with the strength of a warrior, but each night the power of nature overcame my senses. Each morning I woke with the burden of the life I so desperately wanted to leave. Each day I lived the life I created to keep others from knowing the real me hidden deep inside behind dark walls even I refused to go behind.

I don't remember when he joined me, but at some point Winnie the Pooh came into my world. I watched the shows on television and read the books. Mostly, though, I held onto this stuffed bear less than a foot tall. He rested on my bed each day waiting for my return from school. He watched me carefully as I engaged in activities that perpetuated my make believe world. He listened as I made up storylines where I was a flawed hero, and he heard me as I cried over the worthlessness I felt in my life. Pooh became a friend to me, and he proved to be the best childhood friend a boy could have. He was always there with me, but mostly, he was there with me at night. I remember heated arguments in our home at night. Holding Pooh tightly helped me make it through. I remember being afraid that I would dream about falling into the deep cavern yet again. Again, Pooh helped calm me. I remember being afraid of the Wicked Witch who threatened to boil me in her cauldron once she had put me to sleep. Through it all Pooh was there.

Tonight we are going as a family to see the new movie Christopher Robin. I have been rereading
some of the Pooh stories in anticipation of the movie. I don't know all that we will see as we experience Disney's creation of a grown up Christopher Robin and the impact of a bear and his friends on this matured life. Whatever we see, I am sure it will be amazing. He may be a stuffed bear, but the attachment remains - for scores of Christopher Robins around the world.