Still Watching Over Me

In my own recollection, my first and last stuffie, was Lurky. Now, if you have no point of reference, no worries. I also seldom watched Rainbow Brite. But I loved my Lurky. He must have come into my life on my fourth birthday. I see the original issue is 1983 and my parents never moved that fast. But someone had an inkling... about me and Lurky.

Lurky was special. One look at that mug above and you see what I mean. SO much to Love!! The antenna, the boogly eyes, the hair tuffs, the schnoz, the great big open arms, and the sneakers with lighting bolts, just cemented itself to myselfhood from toddler to teen years. If I was going on an overnight, that was the only thing I really need to bring, aside from jammies, pen and notepaper, and toothpaste.

At some point of crisis, I left Lurky at home. Safe.

By then I understood the meaning of the word. Lurk. The irony and how it weighs in on life experience and its lingering impressions. The boogiemen we had faced, the dark, the alone. When I walked out, traveling light, knowing I'd never be back, I left him on the bed with one final hug and kiss. If I ever returned, I'd be older. To the household, I'd be a stranger. But not to Lurky.

Sometimes I think, he's still watching over me.