Lamby
The one true friend I’ve had for most my life is Lamby.
He was one of the toys that my parents gave me as a infant. He was one of the first toys I ever had. I know because one of my baby photos is of me and him side by side. We were almost the exact same size at the time.
I’ve had him my whole life. Every night when I went to bed. I would press my lips to his forehead and wish him goodnight. Whenever the tears from my eyes couldn’t help but pour out. I hugged him close and buried my face in his fur. For every milestone of my life, Lamby has been there.
He’s old now of course. 15 years without repair is wound to cause some damage. The threading on his mouth is coming apart. One of his eyes is slightly loose. And his fur is not as white as it once was. Things change.
Like when we got a new dog for example. We got Stanley, a golden doodle who’s probably just a poodle in disguise. He’s nothing like our old dog, Bernie. Bernie was always calm if not slightly anxious at all times. Meanwhile Stanley is an oafish 6 month old puppy whose favorite things to do are causing chaos and ripping up stuffies. So when he began wanting to sleep in my bed. I put Lamby up.
I was going to just put him in a drawer with all of my other stuffed animals that I didn’t want Stanley to eat. But I decided to set him in a seated position on the top shelf of my wardrobe. I have a loft bed so when I look across my room we are eye to eye. He kind of looking like he was standing guard over my room.
Stanley is over two years old now. He’s still a chaotic dick sometimes. But he’s never failed at putting a smile on my face. And Lamby…. Lamby didn’t come down from where I set him on my drawer. He stayed there, always watching, 6 feet above the ground.
I took him down a month ago. Only for a day. It was when my heart felt 10 pounds heavier. And the world felt it had put its hands on my shoulders and pushed me down to the floor. Everything felt simply to much as my chest hurt with every breath I took. And at that time all of the fear I had felt like it was pressing down on my chest. Crushing I held Lamby close as I sat on my floor, feeling the fuzzy rug again my skin. I wanted to go back in time. And let myself relax in the comforts of my childhood.
But I found that his fur felt different than it did before.
2 thoughts on "Lamby"
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I can feel this poem. I’ve always loved stuffed animals, and there are a few I will never give away or stuff in an attic. I love how you detail your history with Lamby, and how he has helped you throughout the years. The last line is heartbreaking. Thank you for sharing.
In all the years of doing LexPoMo, no poem has hit harder than this one. Like, this hurt. This went straight to core of many things I already feel, and there are tears in my eyes. In that light, thank you so much for putting this on here. It’s a truly great poem.