Simon Too has been in the hospital with me, and now that I’m home in my hospital bed, he sits in my room either beside or in my bed or somewhere on my metal bedside tray. Last night he was on the tray over the bed looking down at me with his glassy plastic eyes and imitation leather nose. He has the same colors that real Simon had, black and brown, though over time, 13 years, real Simon turned gray in places.
I have well over 40 photos of Simon in one of my photo albums, and one image of him peering out at me from inside a pink blanket on my iPad Home Screen, or whatever it is called. In any case he is always there in one form or another so that I am always aware of his absence, “lent for a while.” I know. So was Biscuit, so was Pookie, so was Lancelot and Max and Buster and Hollie. So are Schuster and Chipper (AKA Cricket or Checkers). So are we all, yet we always seem to forget that and frequently behave badly. Dead man walking! Or in my case lying down or sitting. Dead man sitting.
And yet the world is such a lovely place that I got to see last Wednesday, on my way to and from the doctor, with all the yellow forsythia blossoms and the white Bradford pear blooms, etc. And the clouds, as so frequently, were magnificent, whisks of defiant moisture or ice or thick masses of such moved about above us by the wind.
Simon in Miniature
I have a little dog named “Simon Too”;
He’s filled with plastic pellets through and through.
His coat is polyester black and brown;
I hide him in my bed under my gown.
He has a big nose that I’ve grown to love;
And never tries to oust me with a shove!
Small Simon Too is all that’s left behind;
Real Simon’s left now only in my mind,
And in my sad and sorely troubled heart
Wherein the little guy still plays his part.
Thanks for the gift I surely would outlast
And all good memories from a happy past!
Amen
Image: there he is, looking somewhat put upon, having me hold my iPad pointing at him for the picture. The wooden thing in the picture is a cheap little tray that snaps on the arm of the chair. Simon always sat beside me on the large chair until I was taken to the hospital. With gangrene and wounded feet. Simon couldn’t move his hind legs, two years; I couldn’t walk. Still can’t very well. Sometimes I just want to have him beside me again for the flesh and blood contact, the physical touch. Amen!
Clouds: image from Johanna
”Simon Too”
