Golden is gone.
She was born in Beatrix’s mind, somewhere behind those green eyes. For a year, she thrived, evolved, adventured, and pulled her girl along. Golden was a good friend.
When Beatrix started talking about Golden, it took me a few days to catch on. Golden went to McDonald’s. Golden has a new baby sister. Golden’s birthday is today. Golden is 5. All of these seemed like facts about a real girl.
And then.
Golden is at college. Golden has a new iPhone. Golden downloaded Paper Toss. Golden is surfing in Mexico. Golden opened a deli named Golden’s Deli. Golden sold lots of pickles. Golden has friends named Shep, Cake, Popgoestheweasel, and Blueberry. Golden was born in South America. Golden drives a pink Slug Bug. Golden has a store where she sells sunglasses and statues of horses. Golden loves singing the blues. Golden has another new sister. And another. And another. Golden fell down and died. Oh! Golden is still alive, but she has a broken leg.
It was clear that Golden was not a real girl, but super-real. She seemed to embody Beatrix’s wishes and dreams. If Golden had an iPhone and a pet fox and a baby sister, then maybe Beatrix could too.
When asked where she met Golden, Beatrix would answer church or McDonald’s. Maybe Beatrix couldn’t exactly remember. She was only 3, after all.
A few weeks ago, it occurred to me I hadn’t heard the name Golden in awhile.
I thought about asking Beatrix about Golden. Where was she? What was she doing?
But if Beatrix created her to fulfill a purpose in her life, to play, to pretend, to stretch her imagination, then the absence of Golden means something too.
Still, there is a Golden-shaped hole in the fabric of our days. It’s shifts, just like she did. She was big, she was little, she did math one moment and skied the next. It was fun hearing about her. It was funny hearing about her. She provided a glimpse into Beatrix’s bright and colorful world—what she valued, what she dreamed of doing, who she wanted to be.
The answer: A brilliant girl beloved by family, ever-growing, going on adventures, not afraid of independence, sometimes vulnerable, always brave, creative.
Mission accomplished. Thank you, Golden.
*sigh* This is such a sweet post. And a little sad too. Bea is growing up! And what a lovely little girl she is! I will miss Golden stories.
Oh, I will miss reading of Golden’s adventures!
Ah, a bit melancholy. I am sad for Golden that her adventures have come to an end, but as I always tell my kids, “Stay little, but please do grow up.” I guess we can’t have both.
Sweet, sweet post… the bittersweet of their growing up!!!
RIP Golden. How little we knew thee 😉
This post is so bittersweet. It reminded me of my oldest daughter who loved orange from the moment she could talk. She wanted all her clothes to be orange. The only crayon she used was orange. She would point out orange things everywhere for two years. Then one day she announced that she did not like orange anymore. I felt funny being sad about that, but I came to love orange because Leah loved orange. We love the things our children love and then one day, we get whiplash because those things are not the favorites anymore!
Golden stories always made me laugh. I’ll miss them, but I’m excited for Beatrix and her new growing up adventures. (And, okay, I admit, I’m a bit teary over Golden’s absence. Kids and their imagination…it’s an awesome thing.)