Sock Monkeys

I'm putting my faith in sock monkeys. I've had two for about 25 years. I've never named them but they have little sweaters and one wears my sorority pin. When my five-year-old grandson came to spend the night Thanksgiving Eve, he brought his sock monkey, Henry, along. It's something that transcends age. When I was a child, I was convinced that my stuffed animal collection talked to each other after I fell asleep. And I still believe they might.

Sock monkeys were originally manufactured out of work socks in a factory in Rockford, IL. I don't know what it is, but there's something very magical about them. They have partially filled the void created when my children left home. Not that I put them in an infant seat and take them grocery shopping (like childless friends of ours did with their teddy bears), but I do know that as much as I simplify and give things away, I will never let go of these old friends.

I'm taking One to One lessons at the Mac store in Emeryville and I learned about photos today. So I wanted to share this portrait. I'm counting on Henry and my sock monkeys to accompany my courageous grandson on his journey to healing.