Dear Weller,

As I stared blankly at the Word document on my screen, trying to figure out what to write this week, I grabbed you off of my bed and said, “Weller, help me." Then I looked at your patted-down fur and dirty bandana and realized that you sure have seen better days since I first picked you out at the science museum in the second grade. However, behind all of the dirtiness (maybe I should send you through the wash at least once a year) are 14 years of memories and love that only a stuffed yellow lab like yourself could hold.

You see, my dad always gets mad because I take you with me every time I go somewhere overnight. I can count on one hand the amount of nights that I have spent without you in the last year. Whenever we go on a family trip, I stuff you in my already packed carry-on, causing my bag to bust at the zippers. “Faith, you don’t need that; leave it at home,” my dad will tell me as I move stuff around in my bag. He’ll even threaten to get rid of you when I’m not looking. However, the truth is I do need you. I’ve cuddled with you in my sleep nearly every night since I was a kid and when I have you with me, I feel like I’m safe. If any nightmares try to creep up on me in the night, I know that you’ll fight them off for me.

I took you with me when I studied abroad in London. Leaving home for such a long time with no family or friends was a scary thing. To be honest, having you there was like having a bit of home with me and whenever I was feeling a little homesick, I would give you a hug and know that everything was OK. Everything in a foreign country was completely new to me. And while I had pictures on my iPhone to remind me of home when I felt scared, what really helped me get through the hard times was you. You were the only tangible thing that I had with me that was familiar and you were always there to make me feel safe.

You were always my partner in crime growing up, and I would treat you like a member of the family. Whenever mom said something that I didn’t like, I would point your snout downward towards her giving her your “angry face.” I was never allowed to have a real dog, so you held the place of a real dog in my heart. I felt like you were always a member of the family.

You came to college with me on my first day of freshman year. And while I was scared that people might make fun of the fact that I still sleep with my childhood stuffed animal every night, I quickly realized that there are lots of grown-up kids who need a little piece of childhood like you with them every now and then. I know that I’m not the only one who sobbed hysterically at the end of "Toy Story 3," and that’s because we all know how much love our childhood toys hold within them. We grew up with them, giving them all of our love, our secrets and our memories. They watch us grow up into adults and watch us make good decisions and bad ones. They know how to make us feel better at the end of a rough day, without really doing anything at all.

Now, you sit in a prominent place on my bed for everyone to see when they come in my room. You have your own throne (aka the baby pillow that I got when I was born) and whenever I have a big decision to make, I look at you. You help me remember the child within during hard times. You remind me what it is like to be youthful. You’re always there for me, never mad or disappointed, just always there to give me your love. Behind your marble eyes and patted down fur are 14 years of memories and love that I will always thank you for.

Love, Faith