We have all had that first love, a memory that is forever etched in our hearts. A name, smell, sight or thought can easily arouse those memories. We dream, if only for a moment of returning to that magical time, a time of innocence and simplicity. As time passes the inevitable happens. For the first time in what seems like forever, we are now face to face with the one who stole our heart, our first love.
This happened to me recently, it was the second time in the last few years. My first encounter, about 7 years ago was less than memorable. At one glance, my cat did a complete back flip before retreating to a “safe place” for the following 3 hours. She trembled in fear, hissing at the slightest sound or movement. I honestly thought I had killed her! Knowing animals have a keen sense, I start to question my own judgment, was it really love or simply infatuation? People and things change drastically over the years, but how much, hadn’t really crossed my mind until I came across a picture taken from long ago.
Meet my first love, A.K.A. Sweetie Pie. At this point, I feel I need to not only explain my little love but myself as well. Yes, this is me. Yes, I am a girl. Almost each and every picture of me, pre-sixth grade shows me sporting the oh-so-dreaded-pixie. Did my mom secretly wish her second child was a boy? I think so. She will be the first to defend herself, “Honey, it was hard being a single parent and working full-time.” She would go on to explain, “I hardly had time to mess with hair. You looked so cute, you were always dressed girly…” Mom, no offense but 40+ years later, I am still feeling the need to reiterate the fact I am a female. Just 1 bow ma, it could have spared me years of explanation! Sweetie Pie was my constant companion, confidant and friend for many years. Sweetie Pie was, my first love. (not counting Jeff Poindexter, who I met around the same time) He not only accepted my oh-so-dreaded-pixie, he embraced me for who I was. We climbed trees together, bathed together and he even allowed me to give him the oh-so-dreaded pixie haircut. Perhaps Sweetie Pie was once female, it’s hard to say. As the wardrobes that my grandma and aunts made over the years evolved, Sweetie Pie’s gender did as well.
With my cat out of harms reach, I reminisce. So many happy memories, I wipe a tear or two. With a little inspection, it has now become quite obvious that not all memories are so happy. Not for Sweetie Pie anyways. With most of his hair gone now, his white skin a muted dirt color, not only have the years worn on my little guy, but he is sporting some serious signs of trauma! I wipe a tear or two.
What happened to his once black, felt feet? The brown corduroy ones that now replace them came with great love. I remember….Sweetie Pie lost his feet many times in my efforts to rescue him from a tree. Eventually, grandma had to fully replace them. She knew how much I loved him. This was her third and final try. The first attempt left my beloved friend with 2 feet facing the wrong direction, the second, with 1 foot facing the wrong direction. (Bless her heart, she hoped I wouldn’t notice)
I shutter as I see his head. A botched decapitation attempt? You bet, I remember… Jealous as they all were, my cousins and sister would tease me. Their fits of jealousy often ended in a tug-a-war, at Sweetie Pie’s expense. Not only did they wish they had such a friend, they were probably jealous of the selfless hours my grandma spent reattaching his head. The stitches up the back were a must, if I had stitches, Sweetie Pie did too.
As I re-examine the little guy, one thing is clear. As tattered and disheveled as he is, his smile still melts my heart. I couldn’t imagine growing up without him. I tried to pass him down to each of my son’s when they were toddlers, unfortunately they responded much like my cat did…minus the hissing. Until next time, I carefully pack him away knowing that my first love will always be within reach.
I can’t help but hope though, that the years have been kinder to Jeff Poindexter.