Becoming Real

"You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

This is a quote from The Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real by Margery Williams. I saw it posted on Facebook today outside of any real context; regardless, it jumped off the screen and into my heart, suddenly ripe with personal context and meaning. I realized that since the onset of Parkinson's Disease, I've been feeling very Real.

For once, words fail me.

The words that are finally coming to me aren't particularly uplifting, but they're true:  Becoming Real ruins you; it breaks you and scars you; it changes you, re-shapes and re-purposes you. At the end, it's all worthwhile...at least, according to the story. I can't speak to that from personal experience yet.

Do you remember the story of the Velveteen Rabbit? It's a short, easy read, written as a children's book. You can find it here:  http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/williams/rabbit/rabbit.html

The basic story line is that a brand new, stuffed, Velveteen Rabbit becomes a little boy's favorite toy. The stuffed rabbit asks one of his fellow toys, the Skin Horse, how he can become Real, hence the opening quote of this post. As the story progresses, the Velveteen Rabbit becomes Real to the little boy because he was so well loved, though the becoming caused the rabbit discomfort. At the end of the story, the rabbit is discarded, but a fairy saves him and makes him really Real.

The author is right about this:  becoming real doesn't often happen to "people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept." I wish it weren't happening to me. Becoming Real hurts too much, costs too much. And I don't know if finally being Real will be worth the discomfort.

There's one thing in the quote that I'm not sure about, though:  "once you are Real, you can't be ugly except to people who don't understand." I certainly don't feel pretty when my coordination is off and I have trouble walking. I think I'm in that awkward stage that comes after you get a bad diagnosis, and you're still fighting with it. You haven't had it long enough for it to knock off your rough edges, and make you a beautiful person; only just long enough to make you good and mad!   

I guess it doesn't matter so much. I was chosen for this. It is what it is. If there's a reward, great. If there's not, I guess there's not, and that's just how it goes.

Some days are puppies and rainbows for me; some days aren't. Lately, it seems tears are never far. It's part of my life now, and maybe if I share it, it will help someone. 

That's about the most I can hope for tonight while I'm becoming Real.

BELOW:  Meet my very Real teddy bear, Fuzzy. He's been with me since I was six years old. I found him outside a storefront on a rainy day. He was wet and lonely and I felt so sorry for him that my grandma brought him home and cleaned him up for me. He lost his nose--not to speak of all his fuzz--so now he has a red stick-on nose. His back and his armpits have been ripped and sewn shut again, and the stuffing is gone from his neck, so his little head droops. But he's Real. I wonder if he thinks it was worth it...