Update to a sentimental detail my parents tried to rob from me
Last time I came to this subreddit, it was to share my grief as I was in the very beginning stages of planning my wedding to my beloved. When I was a child, my Oma gave me a tiny stuffed mouse to be part of my wedding bouquet as a symbol of our relationship for my “something borrowed”. I shared how my parents held onto it for safe keeping as I grew up, and when I came out as transgender, my parents felt I no longer deserved the stuffed mouse at my wedding.
I came to share how heartbreaking the estrangement from my family is during the time in my life that should be shared with my loved ones. I came to whine that my admittedly lazy search online to replace my stuffed mouse turned up expensive or subpar substitutes. I expected others to share similar stories of lackluster family, and maybe give creative ideas on how to honor my Oma’s memory another way.
Instead, the wonderful people in this community overwhelmed me with an outpouring of kindness and support. I had people source me exact substitutions for my Oma’s mouse, and offers to mail them to me from around the world, over three continents! I even have had two people offer to hand make replica mice. I have stuffed mice flooding my mailbox and I am so overwhelmed with gratitude and have no words for the impact this has to me right now.
I intend to create a display with all the mice, and a little map of where each came from, and a memorial bouquet, explaining that the original mouse was “lost to time” but that our international queer community has embraced us in a time of need to remind us that that there are wonderful people everywhere despite everything. After our wedding, I plan on putting them in a shadow box and framing them somewhere in our home.
There are still mice on their way to me, one is hanging out with my best man, and another is with a friend of mine closer to where we are about to move. I’m just floored.
Thank you all, truly, for all your kind words, your mice, and the reminder that family are the people who show up for you, not the people who give you genetic material.