Best Friend

Hey, um, excuse me. I don’t mean to bother you or take up too much of your time, but I’ve wanted to ask you something for a while now. Don’t you remember me? I really hope you do, but I understand if you don’t. It's been a long time. I’m trying hard not to give up, and if you could answer me, that would help.

On your 3rd birthday, when you thought you’d opened all your presents, your grandma surprised you with one more from behind her back. It was a rectangular box wrapped in pink glittery wrapping paper. You were a little sad for a while because you hadn’t gotten something you’d asked for, so when she handed you the box, you ripped the paper off so fast, but you couldn’t open the box. She put so much tape on it that your dad had to cut it off with a knife. I was frightened when you yanked me out of that box, but that soon disappeared because you hugged me tightly and yelled, " I love him, he’s gonna be my new best friend, he’s what I wanted.”

Your cousin asked what you were going to name me. You said, “his name is Chiip, which reminds me of the chocolate chips in my favorite ice cream: mint chocolate chip.”

I had black fur, small, round ears, and a button nose. Nose kisses were my favorite; they tickled my belly and made me laugh.

From that day forward, I was tucked under your arm wherever you were. We walked with Mom holding hands through the grocery store. I had my own place at the dinner table. You hated peas and tried to feed them to me, but I didn’t like them either. At the park at the top of the slide, I was so scared, but you didn’t let go of me. Then we did it many more times, and I had fun. You wanted to put me in your bath, but your mom said that wasn’t a good idea, so I sat beside you and sang along as you played in the bubbles. I got dirty from making mud pies on the sidewalk, and your mom had to put me in the washer, and it took so long for me to dry out. You dressed me in funny clothes you made out of random things you found around the house. You put me on the dog, and I’d ride on his back around the house until I fell off. We watched all our favorite shows together. When it was bedtime, you would hold me close and tell me everything, your secrets, your fears. When you were sad, you cried in my fur; I always cried with you.

You began kindergarten and snuck me in your backpack even though your mom said no. I was happy to be close by just in case you needed me. During recess, you pulled me out to show your classmates.

You took me to school until you started 4th grade. That morning, you hugged me goodbye, left me on your bed, and said, “Stay put, I’ll see you later when I get home from school.” It made me sad, and I cried a little bit. I wanted to go with you, but when you came home, you ran to me, hugged me, and told me about your day. I looked forward to that and waited anxiously for you to come. You said you missed me and talked about me during the day. You said it was hard not having me close by, but it got better. You stopped taking me to places and left me on your bed. I was kinda confused about what was happening, and it hurt my feelings when you left me at the house. But you still said I was your best friend. And you still cuddled me at night. You still talked to me and made me laugh. I was where you needed me.

You squeezed me so tight the night the thunder and lightning scared you. When it started raining, you finally fell asleep. I didn’t think you could, but I was there to comfort you. The summer before you began 7th grade, you redid your room and placed me on a shelf on your wall instead of your bed. I was sad and didn’t understand. I sat there close to you, waiting for you to need me, but you never did. I listened to you talk on the phone about things you used to discuss with me. One day, you ran in, stuffed your head in your pillow, and cried loudly. You found out that a boy you liked liked someone else. Maybe you’d need me that day, but I was wrong. I was hurt but didn’t cry.

When you left for college, you packed your room and placed me in a box in the attic. You left me. You were my best friend, but I wasn’t yours anymore. I became angry and frustrated, not being able to do anything, and I sat in my hurt, all alone, and cried for many days and nights until I had no more tears to cry. You didn’t need me as much as you grew older, but I needed you. It would have been different if I could have grown along with you.

You're married now with a baby on the way. I’m still alone in the dark, hoping you’ll need me again.

Your parents are selling their house and came across me while sorting things. When your mom saw me, she smiled, reminiscing about your childhood with me by your side. She placed me in a woven basket that held blankets in the front room and kept me safe, waiting for when you needed me again. She thought I would be best friends with your son, just as I was with you.

The day came, and she picked me up and placed me in the car beside her as she drove. It was your baby shower. She carried me in her hands. She didn’t say anything and waited until you noticed, and when you did, you smiled so bright and said to me, “Hey, Chip, I remember you, I’ve missed you.” Her mom handed me to her, and she gave me a nose kiss and hugged me tight. She said you were my best friend.

All the hope I carried with me turned to pure happiness, and at that moment, I knew what I had wondered about for so long: she did remember me.

She placed me in the crib next to her son. I watched him as he grew and waited for when he needed me. He grew older, and we became best friends. I was later passed down to three generations of children to be their best friend and be there when they needed me.

I am old and retired, sitting high on the mantle in the house of the little girl I first met on her 3rd birthday. When everyone comes over, they talk and hug me. I still get nose kisses that tickle my tummy and make me laugh. Sometimes, she sits in her rocking chair and talks to me like she did in old times.

She still needs me, and yes, she remembers me; they all do.