Moe

This weekend I stepped out of the shower to hear the wail of utter despair.  I knew that cry, it wasn't hurt, it was heartbreak.  Sure enough, I discover that my oldest had been smacking his brother with Moe and brother got a hold of a foot and the resulting rip nearly amputated the leg.

Moe is a stuffed horse that J1 got at 15 months.  He picked it out himself at FAO Schwarz on a trip to New York City and it quickly became his "attachment item".  Moe has gone everywhere.  Moe has been to Texas, California, Florida, Delaware, and Pennsylvania.  Moe is worldly.  Moe also goes to the grocery store, the doctor, the dentist and just about any other place you drag a child.  Truth be told, Moe even went to preschool for a few months.  The teachers would snag him after a while (once J1 was engaged in play) and stuff him into J1's backpack.  It made the transition easier.

Now you might say that J1 is seven and doesn't need Moe and my only response is: he lost his father.

Moe is about as important to J1 as I am, sometimes even more when life is unfair (or Mommy is).  Moe still travels with J1 even though I beg him to leave him at home or in the car or in his bed.  For the most part, I have been able to keep Moe at home but that doesn't save him from the perils that lie within.  The dog has chewed him a bit and J1 likes to swing Moe around (or smack his brother) so small rips have happened before.

Moe's leg was reattached but this crisis reminded me that while I held my son as his body was wracked with sobs that he wasn't crying over Moe.  He was crying for his father.  And that is one heartbreak I can't repair with needle and thread.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife

ps.  This is one of my favorite pictures of Jeff with J1.  Even though there is no picturesque background of the ocean or a meadow... it is exactly what I saw for years.  Jeff holding J1's had and J1 holding onto Moe.