Pablo en Manneke

I keep my first teddy bear I ever got in our bedroom, as one of the very few relics, together with some pictures, of my childhood in Belgium. I got this bear when I was about four, and my brother, who was a year younger than me, also got the same kind of teddy bear. I called my bear Pablo, perhaps in reference to the exotic name of the famous Spanish artist, Pablo Picasso, of whose art my parents were very fond, and who must have been a favorite topic of discussion. To a small child, Pablo was an intriguing name in a Flemish household. My brother named his bear Manneke, literally, "little man". The bears were identical, but my brother and I always could tell who was Pablo and who was Manneke. I felt a twinge of sadness looking at my bear, wondering if Bart still had Manneke. The bears are more than fifty years old now, the oldest toy I have. Innocence is such a precious commodity, there was a time when my brother and I played together with our bears, happy, unaware that a time would come where our parents' awful marriage would make us drift apart to the point where there no longer is any trust, any communication. I haven' t seen my brother in 14 years, since Ludwina's funeral in Georgia, after her suicide. Pablo en Manneke, Pablo and Manneke, a sister and a brother, now thousands of miles apart, in distance physically and emotionally. Bye, Manneke and Bart, Pablo and I are still here.