The Purple Cow

I never saw a purple cow,

I never hope to see one.

But I can tell you anyhow

I would rather see than be one.            Gelette Burgess

I have seen a purple cow and I loved her.

When I was young, maybe 8? I got a purple cow for Christmas.  I think from Santa.  A lovely stuffed purple cow.  My siblings and I really enjoyed Violet.  We used our Hi-Ho Cherry O game ( http://www.amazon.com/Hasbro-44703-Hi-Ho-Cherry-O/dp/B00000IWGQ) buckets to milk her.  She was an amazing cow. Each of her pink teats produced a different drink.  Milk, of course.  Chocolate milk. (are you surprised?)  some kind of juice maybe orange, I think. and strawberry milk or maybe apple juice.

I love stuffed animals (and real animals) and have had many.  Through all of life’s moves and changes, I kept my purple cow. 

Until one dark day.

Those of you who know me know that I struggle with time, money, and organization management.  I was never a really great house keeper, or even a really good one.  Then I had 8 children.  Not bad children at all, but children.  And most all of us were pack rats.  Some of them have overcome that now so that if you know them you may not believe me, but they were.   And I have struggled with (mild) depression much of my life.  What I didn’t realize until I got divorced was how much my marriage contributed to my depression.  As a result of all this, my house was quite cluttered and messy.

Anyway, David would be coming home from his mission soon.  I wanted to make home a little bit nicer to come to.  I decided to try to get rid of some of the clutter.   We had LOTS of stuffed animals and a charity truck was coming for donations.  I put aside a few of the nicest stuffed animals that I thought the children liked and filled two garbage bags with the rest. 

Including Violet.  It still makes me cry.  What was I thinking??  I think I was punishing myself for being such a lousy homemaker, mother, person, you name it.  Looking back I have found other times in my life when I have done something like that to hurt myself, to punish myself for being me.  This one still hurts. A surprising amount.

I put the bags out for the truck and the kids and I headed out on some errands.   I told them what I had done and they all protested that I should have kept the purple cow.  I said that if the bags were still there when we got home, I would save her.  But Violet was gone forever. 

I cannot even think that she was adopted by another little girl.  She was too old and worn to make it to the sales floor.   I killed an old, dear friend when I put her in that bag and took it out to the street.  I am pretty sure there are animals in heaven. I rather wish that there will be stuffed animals, too, but somehow I doubt it.

I have cried many a tear over my purple cow. I only wish that I felt such sincere regret over actual sins I have committed as over giving up that silly stuffed animal.  Siblings have nearly cried about Violet.

Once Benjamin drew me a purple cow. She is on my computer at home.

This Christmas Debi gave me a purple cow she sewed herself.  She is not the cow of my childhood, soft and rounded.  She is the cow Debi remembers, flat, but still cute.  No pink teats.  Those were long gone before Debi knew her.

I can tell you one thing.  I am not ever giving up this purple cow.  She carries a lot of love.