The Pink Rabbit

When thinking about what my most prized possession is in the world, I couldn’t think of one, I have three that I’d call my treasures. But more than things, it’s usually people that I find the hardest to detach from – the ache when you haven’t seen someone in so long, and then the sheer joy that’s etched across the other person’s face when you see them again are priceless moments, more than any amount of money.

So here comes my most important piece of “it”. This story, is incredibly personal to my family and I hope it gets you thinking as to what your treasures are in this world.

The Pink Rabbit – I’m sure it had a name once upon a time, it was my brother’s favourite toy, that went with him everywhere, it was in so many pictures of us in younger days. It’s just a small stuffed toy, but to me, it’s the only thing left of my older brother, who was tragically killed in a car accident we were both in when he was just 6 years old and I was a little baby.

This little boy was someone I knew so well, but I have no memory of, with the exception of a hazy memory that I’m not even entirely sure is real, it could even be just a hope I conjured up when I was told that I used to have a brother. Who knows how our minds work, but what I do know is why this rabbit is important.

I’m now 25 years old, and have never ever seen a video of my brother, I’ve only ever seen pictures, because even now years on, the scars that have somewhat healed for the most amazing parents in this universe, are still raw, and videos even though they have spoken of playing one, has never happened as of yet. Therefore, the beautiful pictures I have, that must have had tears on all of them in the early years when everyone in the family were battling the hardest war of internal conflict, for me they represent happier times. Those memories represent happy times, times that my parents forever treasure in their hearts, the giggles around the house, the many dramas that come with having two children and now having just the one.

So this bunny represents my brother, seeing it reminds me of that older soul – and sometimes just sometimes I think what if – he would have probably gotten along like a house on fire with my husband, one day he may have even made a great uncle (if we’re lucky one day ;-)) but most importantly, when there were times where I’d feel like there was no one around to stick up for me, he would have been there. That bunny is my backup, it’s my strength when I feel low and it’s my happiness when I smother a stuffed pink toy rabbit with hugs.

This Pink Rabbit, represents life – it’s over 25 years old, it’s a little drabby, you could buy one better now in the shop, hey maybe even one that lights up, but nothing will compare to this because it shows just what life does – it may get us a bit down and dirty over time, but if you’re still there to tell the tale, it’s better than not being there at all.


4 thoughts on “The Pink Rabbit

  1. Anonymous says:

    That’s an amazing piece of writing and a beautiful expression of your thoughts. Thank you for sharing that. Viva la pink rabbit 🙂

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