Letting go

Even when you know this day will eventually come, you put it out of your mind. You just don’t want to think about it. You pretend it won’t ever happen.

But it does. It has to, really. At some point you realize that it’s really in both your best interests for your best friend to retire.

I’m talking about The Bag, the city girl’s best friend. The Bag that you carry everywhere, that holds everything but the kitchen sink (which would fit, too, with just a little reorganization). It has everything in it that you might ever need. Far beyond just a place to keep your wallet, keys and cell phone, it holds the little bits and pieces that help make your life convenient. Your book for reading on public transportation, your portfolio with important papers to take care of, your makeup for touchups during the day (or the next morning, should you be so lucky as to GET lucky and stay over somewhere), emergency things like tampons and bandaids, gum, mints, cigarettes, lighter, small notepad for recording things you might forget later, pens, hairbrush, digital camera, hand lotion, and all the other detritus that finds its way to the bottom.

For the last year, Tod has been my bag. Tod and I found each other on a street corner in downtown DC, and I just knew he was the right one for me. Perfect size, shape and color, perfect heft, perfect volume. Before I had gone even a block, a stylish native New Yorker had told me the designer knocked off and that she wanted one, too. That’s when I really knew that I’d found a keeper.

We’ve been through a lot together, Tod and I. We’ve been to New York, San Francisco and Vancouver, through moving house, two roommates, and we were into our 3rd job together (4th if you count the restaurant). Through the ups and downs, Tod was right there with me, holding the bottle of wine for me, or the coffee cup as I left another office. He was there with me when I had to put Shelby to sleep, a quiet strength and repository for my snot-soaked tissues on the drive home from the vet’s office. There was something comforting about hugging Tod to me in times of hurt, anger or despair.

And then a few weeks ago, I started noticing that Tod was showing his age. I tried to ignore them, but a few nicks here and there became huge open sores to my eyes, even though I knew they hadn’t really gotten any bigger. But around the edges, Tod was getting worn down and losing his color, and it was just hard for me to watch. You never like to watch an old friend wasting away like that.

So yesterday, when I saw Gucci, I knew that it was time to retire Tod. Even after I adopted Gucci, I let Tod take me home with dignity, the last trip carrying everything I need to go about my daily business and more. And even though there’s a new Bag in my life, I’ll miss Tod for a while. I guess I’ll grieve for Tod. I hope Gucci understands.

Don’t worry, Tod, Gucci may be shiny and red and new, but he’s just not quite you. RIP, my friend.