happyAs I slowly prepare to move, I've been sorting, indexing, and packing large portions of my Pony collection. I don't actually have a comprehensive list of what I do or don't have; a lot of my Ponies came from eBay job lots, or from the aforementioned attic finds, so there are duplicates, and Ponies whose names I don't know.
I mentioned on Twitter that I was doing this. And one of my Tweeps, a very lovely paranormal romance writer named Delilah, asked if I had her favorite, a yellow Rainbow Pony Pegasus named Skydancer. She lost her Skydancer in a fire when she was a kid. I understand losing Ponies. Part of why I collect is because I lost my childhood collection before I was ready to part with it. I affirmed that I did have Skydancer, and more, that I had a duplicate, and would she like her?
She would like her.
Skydancer has reached Delilah, and is finally home. I have reunited someone with their favorite Pony. And it strikes me that this is the thing we often don't want to understand about fear, or pain, or grief, or loss. Sometimes, we need to focus on the little things to survive the big ones. When a house burns down, we mourn a toy. When a grandparent dies, we get upset about missing a TV show. It's not being petty. It's coping with small so the big doesn't break you.
To quote Delilah: "I have Skydancer again. It's like a tiny little wound in my soul healed, risen like a rainbow-haired phoenix. What is lost can be found."
I feel like the world is going to be okay today.
July 19 2011, 15:53:49 UTC 5 years ago
July 19 2011, 17:51:40 UTC 5 years ago