Zane loved beanie babies. He collected them and would wrestle with them on the trampoline as a kid. Up into the sky they would fly.  Down onto the bouncy tarp to have Zane land on them and pretend he was the wrestling champion. Many of the beanie babies lost limbs.  The majority lost their name tag, which makes it impossible to resell; and some of them are worth more now than the $10 we paid twenty years ago.

When we packed up his beloved collection, we had two large boxes full.  Payton, in charge of the purging process, allowed me to keep only one box.  The other box had to be given away.  Who would appreciate these creatures? How do I give up something Zane loved and brought him joy? I came up with a plan. I hand picked a beanie for each of my nephews, nieces, and young children of close friends. I wrote a little note about where this beanie came from and a wish that they would enjoy them as much as my son had. Then I released them to their new owner.

Yesterday, I woke to a picture on my phone from my sweet niece in Ontario. It was of her son, holding the beanie baby that I sent him. Her text message read, “made my heart very happy how much he loves ducky”.  I burst into tears.  The picture was proof that Zane’s fuzzy ducky brought happiness to someone else.  

I am aware that these toys are just things. And if Zane was here, they might have been given to charity. But that is what happens to us grief warriors.  We become possessive of our child’s belongings.  The importance of each toy, piece of clothing, picture…these things are all we have left. What happens to them becomes a big deal. Parting with them becomes difficult, if not impossible.

No one can say when you should depart with your loved one’s personal belongings.  No one can say what you should do with them. If there is a way that their belongings can be shared, renewed, and treasured by someone else, it helps honor our loved ones, sharing the joy and memories of these things with another. My advice is, if possible, to hold on to them until your heart tells you what to do.

My wish for you is that some one lets you know your child’s treasures are still enjoyed. Because that, as I experienced yesterday morning, is a gift returned. Ducky is on a new adventure. And in some weird way, it makes me feel that the energy of Zane’s childhood antics is alive and well through the repeated play his cousin now shares.