My 60 Year Old Bunny

BunnyMy name is Bunny. I was very sad to hear that Geary’s mother Nadia had passed away. She was the one that made me the only thing I own. The (white with red polka dot) shirt on my back.

I wish I could say that the years have been kind to me. Remarkably I am still here. However so many other toys are gone. Lost along the journey from Fillmore and Eddy (there use to be an apartment house there) to our home in Milpitas.

I still remember the swell times Geary and I had. There were so many toys. I have to admit I was jealous of the bears. But I never met them. They were gone along with the poodles and other stuffed animals due to an allergy that hospitalized one of his sisters.

But soon we were in a home of our own on Thrift street. We were still in San Francisco but in a very quiet place called Ingleside. The kids were gone every weekday. Geary told me how he had to walk to catch the 36 Miraloma (a bus) which he rode to Portal station to catch a street car (in a tunnel) and got off on Church street to take the 44 Fillmore to his school.

But now I just sit quietly on a shelf watching him work. He told me it was time for me to tell my tale and I wish I had more of a tale to tell. My stuffing is now stiff and not soft and cushy as when I was young. I long for the days I was the center of attention. Now I sometimes think “What will become of me?”. Especially since master Geary is broken. He has told me that he had a brain bleed and even the last visit to his cardiologist, was told his heart is still very, very weak.

He hugged me; pressed me to his chest, but I could not feel it beating. No one makes toys like me anymore. I certainly do not want to be put on display either! Time will tell is all I can get out of Geary. That and “All’s well that ends well!”