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I was seven years old when I first set eyes upon him. My Mom had recently given birth to a new baby brother whom I am now caregiver for. I was in the drug store with my Dad. He was waiting for a prescription and I wandered over to the toy section. There he was sitting on a shelf I couldn't reach. His body was green and white checks and he had on orange pants with yellow shoes. His face and hands were made of plastic. He had a button on that said, “My name is J. Fred Muggs. What’s yours?” I was in love. My Dad came over to get me and saw me looking at the toy monkey and bought it for me.
J. Fred Muggs accompanied me through all the frequent moves that my family made. He was my constant companion. At night when others were asleep I would quietly talk over the day with him. He was the perfect listener. He never questioned or made fun of me. He listened to my ups and downs and always had a smile for me. He was a much-loved toy that got increasingly more used looking as we grew older together.
I took J. Fred Muggs to college with me. I was unpacking my things when the lady across the hall came over to introduce herself. Her eyes got huge and with an “Oh my God you have to see this” she took me by the arm and pulled me over to her room and pointed to the shelf over the desk. There sat her J. Fred Muggs. Needless to say we became friends.
As J. Fred Muggs got older the material started to fray and finally got to the point where it couldn't be mended. I got some white felt and covered his body and green trim for collar, cuffs, covered buttons, and shoes. He still had his orange pants. His “hair” needs Rogaine but I think the bald spots make him look distinguished.
J. Fred Muggs has been with me through thick and thin. He was with me through an abusive marriage. He was there to cry on when I lost my Dad to a sudden heart attack. I was getting ready to move near my parents and Dad and I were planning to go through all his genealogy work so I could carry on after he died. He was there when I had bad days at work. He was there when my Mom called and asked if I would move in with her.
Late at night after Mom went to bed J. Fred Muggs was my confidant, my pillow for tears, and my oldest friend. He had been with me through everything else and he stayed loyal through those caregiving years. He was there when Mom died. He was there to absorb the tears. He was there when I had nightmares. He was there when I would start crying, as I had to go through my Mom’s things. He was there through the long process of moving and unpacking to our new home an apartment in North Carolina.
He was there through the pain and problems with my brother Mike's death. His steady presence helped me get through the eulogy. He helped me as I went through a house crammed in every nook and cranny to get it ready to sell. He was there with love when I got the cold shoulder from the inhabitants of that little town. He was there when I made the decision to never return. Mom, Dad, and Mikes' bodies may be there but they are not. I have places in my house honoring all three of them.
J. Fred Muggs has been with me through the difficult task of being a caregiver to a 100% disabled brother. He was there to hold when we came close to losing him twice. He was there Sunday before last when Reid's blood sugar plummeted to 30 and he went into convulsions. He listened to the fear when it was finally over and stayed up all night with me because I was too scared to sleep.
J. Fred Muggs has been with me since I was seven years old. He is my silent oldest friend. His button has long since been lost. “My name is J. Fred Muggs. What’s yours?” he asked on that fateful day when we first met. I can now answer him and say, “My name is Michele and I'm a caregiver."
J. Fred Muggs