the Bunny Legacy

you know her. you might love her. some do. some think she's a little off the wall, but that is the nature of my grief. she is the very expression of my grief. she is part of my art. she is how i cope with losing the only person who knew everything about me and never flinched. she is how i stay sane.

you've seen her completely fall apart.

you've seen her endure those awful anniversaries and birthdays and holiday

with a pensive bowing of her head.

you know the deep, forever love she has for her Dragon.

you know she works hard at giving people a good time at work.

what you don't know about her would fill a book. she is my legacy, i think.

she is all i can leave to the world.

Traveling Bunny ~ Ambassador of Grief and Whimsy.

traveling the world to touch hearts and souls with her singularly winsome ways.

Beach Bunny ~ my alter ego, me, the public face of the woman who clings to the shadows

like a convicted felon.

Bunny in all her guises and poses.

Bunny, who says what i cannot say.

Bunny, whose face is all most people know of me.

Bunny, the brave one, the courageous one who faces the world armed only

with her soft, fuzzy face and her understanding eyes.

she has taken on a life of her own. she was the first thing i bought, beyond food, after my Carl died. she was naked then. i could not dress her because my grief was so raw and naked.

how do you clothe such pain?

black does not celebrate the man he is. color was all wrong for the drowning Bunny i was.

still am.

but i am still breathing so i must be existing.

and existing is exhausting so maybe i should try something to get me through the day.

voila! Bunny bought a sweater.

Bunny bought a t-shirt and jeans and decided to decorate them. just to see.

then Bunny bought angel wings and a white dress for Christmas.

and then Bunny bought a bunny. and another.

all their faces called to me.

all their eyes cried out to belong.

i need a family to live with me. my children are grown. i am alone so much of the time.

it has become crazy. it has become, there are no words, and yet,

there they are.

Bunny's little warren.

Bunny has plans for them all.

Bunny is set to buy two more to gift to two friends.

little clothes are being made.

little ideas are forming in Beach Bunny's head.

creativity.

art.

the art of my grief.

did i mention that this keeps me sane?

because i want him. i want him so much.

but all i can do is play out this life and do so with honor and integrity.

all i can do is try to find some way to leave something behind.

it looks like it's going to be a stuffed Bunny who has a soul.