Ode to Elmo

Today I shelved Elmo. Yes, I actually shelved him. I had been holding it together pretty well until then, but at that moment, tears welled up in my eyes and I was thankful that I had my glasses on to shield my face from Ethan.

I can't remember exactly when Ethan was given Elmo. I believe it was at Christmastime when he was two or three years old. Little did we know then how loved Elmo would be.

There was an immediate bond between Ethan and Elmo. I'm not sure if it was because they actually resembled each other--gangly arms, gangly legs and skinny as beanpoles! Or perhaps it was the comforting soul of Elmo that Ethan treasured so much. Whatever it was, Elmo was to be found tucked under covers every night, nestled under the guarding arm of Ethan. I think Elmo and Ethan slept like that until we left Germany and Ethan was a maturing boy of 15. By that time, Elmo had lost most of his eyes thanks to puppies and age, and his fur had been loved off just like what happened to the velveteen rabbit. Despite all that, even here in Pennsylvania, Elmo has never been far from Ethan's bed.

Today, as I put you, Elmo, on the shelf, I realized that I was shelving eighteen wonderful years of memories. Ethan is leaving us now, going off to find his own way. Just like I can't go with him and help him along anymore, you too must stay here. We will be glad when he comes home or when he drops us a line or calls us, but it won't ever quite be the same. Just like you, I put on my strong, happy face when Ethan is around, but I know, inside, we both already miss him.