A little back history, which may or may not explain why I find this a subject to debate:
In 1988, mum gave me an old prop from her Sooter's Studio. It was a stuffed chimpanzee puppet thing, with long skinny arms and a squeaker box thingy so you could make it 'sound like a monkey' while entertaining kids.
I named him Darwin, because even at four I had a very odd sense of humor.
Anyway, Darwin very quickly became my answer to the whole security blanket phenomenon. I took him everywhere with me. Camping, on road trips, to sleep overs (even if I was only going to Grandma and Grandpa's house) Guide camp...everywhere. Darwin's been to Charleston, SC, and Myrtle Beach, and Costa Rica. He's been to Maine, and Cape Breton, and PEI, and Algonquin Park...he's gotten worn, and thin, and one of the grabby mechanisms in his hand doesn't work, and the squeaker box has long since vanished, and the sides of his mouth are split, and I seriously believe that his purple shirt hasn't been washed in the 21 odd years that he's been in my possession. But I don't care.
Darwin has been my constant companion since I was four. I don't know if I can give that up. He has helped me through more bouts of homesickness than can count, through teenaged emo-angst and pure sadness.
So the choice is before me: a) Take Darwin with me to England and beyond. Possibly forever. Hug him when it's dark and scary and I'm all alone. Run the risk of loosing him somewhere, of him getting damaged in the rain, stolen, lost, destroyed...
b) Don't take him with me. Keep him home, safe. Give up a piece of my childhood, something that would keep me grounded and sane, would stave off homesickness and loneliness. But he would be safe.
The choice isn't as easy as it looks. Because of who I am I very quickly imbue objects with human emotions and feelings. If something were to happen to Darwin...
I just don't know if I can make that choice. I likely won't be able to until the last possible instant.
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