I was thinking about Jessie the cowgirl doll in Toy Story 2. Regarding her child Emily, she said: "She was my whole world. When she loved me everything was beautiful. Every hour we spent together lives within my heart. And when she was sad, I was there to dry her tears. And when she was happy, so was I ... So the years went by, I stayed the same, but she began to drift away."
I don't know about you, but the sentiment here brings a tear to my eye. I remember crying during this part of the movie. These words resurfaced again the other day when my 12-year-old daughter was working a puzzle that she had not touched since she was 5 or 6. It was a picture of two cute-as-a-button kittens coming out of the legs of a pair of jeans. The puzzle was completed and left to sit out on display in the living room. I thought that this was probably the last time that she would ever work this puzzle. The puzzle is obviously not the issue here, it is the passage of time. My daughter is growing up and days of wonder and innocence are rapidly fading away.
From time to time, I stumble across toys that were once important to my little one, that she has long since forgotten. Long since drifted away from. I still clearly remember the fun and laughter and joyful experiences that she had with each of them. Now they lie fallow in drawers and closets, never to be experienced again.
