My son Carter is now 6 years old. He’s in Kindergarten, and it has been AMAZING watching his journey. I was just thinking today about what was going on in my life when I found out we were expecting for the first time. I was in my first year of teaching, and on top of teaching, I was the Speech coach, AND the One Acts coach, AND the Yearbook Sponsor, AND I was driving 30 miles each way to get to work everyday…meaning, most days, I was on the road by 6:45ish AM. We had just moved back to Atkinson the summer prior, so my husband could work with his folks on the ranch. Needless to say, it was a year of big changes. Also at the time, my beloved Grama Sallie was not doing well up in Michigan. I remember how hard it was on my mom, and how I told her she was going to be a Grama herself as she was getting ready to leave to go to Michigan to be with my Grama. I remember that not too long afterward, Grama passed away and we made the drive to Michigan to go to her funeral. The first part of my pregnancy was pretty emotional, but we clung to our excitement about what was to come.
Fast forward to October, 2005. After a tough 3rd trimester that landed me on bed rest, we welcomed Carter to the world. A “little man” from the start, our adventures began. One of his baby gifts was this little stuffed puppy. My aunt MaryLea, known for sending wonderful gifts to each of us since I was a child, couldn’t have known what this puppy would mean to this little boy. As Carter grew, so did his collection of stuffed toys, as I am sure most parents can relate with. The black puppy got put in with the rest, and rarely made its way out of the toy box. Then, in May of 2009, upon returning from a trip to San Francisco, we found out that our family dog, Rosie, the black Australian Shepard, had been killed in an accident. She was a wonderful family pet, and a great ranch companion for my husband. As we mourned her, Carter went to his toy box, proceeded to dig out the stuffed black puppy, named her Rosie, and from then on, Rosie has been by his side.
She’s taken trips to Florida, to Grama’s houses, to Omaha, and to Rapid City. She has sat by the patio window watching Carter and his little brother play out in the yard. She has been stuffed into trucks to haul around the living room. She has been “lost” and has had tears shed over her absence until she was found again. She’s brought comfort in times of hurt and sickness. Needless to say, she has a special place in the heart of our little boy.
Now, Rosie stays home most of the time. Carter doesn’t NEED her when he leaves the house. He’s too big to haul around a stuffed toy. But, at the end of the day, Rosie still has her place snuggled in with him, warm in his bed. She is the last thing he hugs before he goes to bed, and the first thing he finds when he wakes up.
I think that is pretty special.
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