A Goodbye To Innocence

Sometimes you forget how good a movie or tv show really was until your discussing it with a friend or watching an old review where two intellects are sitting around discussing how good the movie or tv show was in their eyes. Such was the case while watching a review of Toy Story 3. It's been a few years now since my eyes were witness to the ending of a trilogy done strictly in the animation process. Woody and Buzz were an awesome team and Andy really was clueless, wasn't he? If we simplify it like that then life is pretty boring isn't it? Nope, the movie was so much more than the adventures of some toys set aside in an attic. There was the message at the end, or rather the explanation of life, that we come to understand. Those first few years, right up to the goodbyes to our parents or guardians, are filled with the hopes and pursuits of childhood dreams and the memories on which we find a foundation to life. They come flooding back to us at the weirdest moments in our lives. There have been many examples in my own life to choose from. Recently, at a family gathering on a holiday, we delved into the past and our memories of a beloved pet, Blondie, came once again to the surface. She was a faithful and loving pet who cared so much for us that even her goodbye was a solitary jaunt into the woods so we would bare no sorrow for her. I was in the military when she died. A faithful companion waiting back home for me. A goodbye that would never come. We have these moments that, as children, we would never really understand until we reach an age where innocence has left. When we do understand it's really too late to go back. The innocence is gone and we are left, sometimes alone, to view the carnage left by the past, to the innocence whose value we did not comprehend. We put away the childish things in our pursuit of ourselves only to understand later how much we wish we would have never left them in the first place. For they are the anchor of our knowledge of the past. One of the most valuable possessions we own is our memories. I've spoken about time being a valuable possession in a past post but I do believe these two go hand in hand. For as one escalates its pursuit of existence so travels the other. Our memories are the key to who we really are. We can put a suit on or other costume. We can buy a fancy car and drive down the highway of life. We can buy nice things and cover up the stench we think others can smell from the rotting carcass of a life we once lived. But the memories will always be with us unless we receive the gift or curse of amnesia. But no matter how far we bury them or hide them they come surfacing back in waves of desperation or exhilaration. It is this ebb and flow of memories that allow us to build on our strengths and allay our weaknesses. We are governed by our past as a map of hurts and triumphs which guide us through the hairpin turns that we come upon in our quest to find ourselves. So the story goes. In Toy Story 3, Andy is growing up and decides to give away his toys to the little girl and he spends a few moments playing with his best friends before saying goodbye. It is the end of the movie that is so heart wrenching to most of us. That sad goodbye to innocence that we all have to say in our pursuit of life. But we hold on to the memories. And sometimes, in an attic in our parent's homes, we find ourselves rummaging for that lost friend we put away so long ago. We miss them. And we miss the innocence. In another tale, in a hundred acre wood, we find the same dilemma with a pre-schooler who has to say goodbye to a best friend. For it's time to do something. Afternoons of nothing must end and so must the relationship between a boy named Christopher and a bear named Pooh. Here's the end of their story - "I like that too," said Christopher Robin, "but what I like doing best is Nothing." "How do you do Nothing?" asked Pooh, after he had wondered for a long time. "Well, it's when people call out at you just as you're going of to do it, What are you going to do, Christopher Robin, and you say, Oh nothing, and then you go and do it." "Oh, I see," said Pooh. "This is the sort of thing that we're doing right now."... Then, suddenly again, Christopher Robin, who was still looking at the world, with his chin in his hands, called out, "Pooh!" "Yes?" said Pooh. "When I'm --- when --- Pooh!" "Yes, Christopher Robin?" "I'm not going to do Nothing any more." "Never again?" "Well, not much. They won't let you." Pooh waited for him to go on, but he was silent again. "Yes, Christopher Robin?" said Pooh helpfully. "Pooh, when I'm --- you know --- when I'm not doing Nothing, will you be here sometimes? "Just me?" "Yes, Pooh." "Will you be here too?" "Yes, Pooh, I will be, really. I promise I will be, Pooh." "That's good," said Pooh. "Pooh, promise you won't forget about me, ever. Not even when I'm a hundred." Pooh thought for a little. "How old shall I be then?" "Ninety-nine." Pooh nodded. "I promise," he said. Still with his eyes on the world Christopher Robin put out a hand and felt for Pooh's paw. "Pooh," said Christopher Robin earnestly, "if I --- if I'm not quite ---" he stopped and tried again --- "Pooh, whatever happens, you will understand, won't you?" And so ends this post. A look back at innocence and a sad goodbye. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.