Tuesday, January 27, 2009
For many weeks now, Briggs and I have been reading the original "Complete Tales of Winnie-the-Pooh." He enjoyed it so much and we looked forward to reading it every night together. We finished the book last week, all 344 pages. Briggs was enthralled that a father had written it for his son about all of his stuffed animals. Every night he and Rusty would curl up in the bed awaiting the next adventure. He loved all of the silliness and antics of the characters. We've even played Pooh sticks on the bridge in the woods at Uncle Scott and Aunt Sue's house. It seems that these characters have been with us for quite a while, but I was unprepared for the sadness that crept upon me when we finally reached the end. I was trying to hide a shaky voice and choking back tears as I read the last page.
"Pooh, promise me you won't forget about me, ever.
Not even when I'm a hundred."
Pooh thought for a little.
"How old shall I be then?"
"I promise," he said.
Still with his eyes on the world Christopher Robin
put out a hand and felt for Pooh's paw.
"Pooh," said Christopher Robin earnestly, "if I-
if I'm not quite--" he stopped and tried again-
"Pooh, whatever happens, you will understand, won't you?"
"Oh, nothing." He laughed and jumped to his feet. "Come on!"
"Where?" said Pooh.
"Anywhere," said Christopher Robin.
So off they went together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.
Christopher Robin was growing up, and so is my sweet little boy. If only I could make time stand still.
Maybe we should read it again.