Connecting with inanimate objects

I GO TO BED with a moose every night. He’s soft, cuddly and fits perfectly in the crook of my arm.

Sometimes his antlers poke me in the eye, but I still love him.

He gives better hugs than most people do. My moose is a stuffed animal.

I know I’m not the only adult who does this. Many of us are attached to inanimate objects, objects that aren’t alive, objects that cannot speak to us when we talk to them (at least, I hope you’re not spending too much time talking to your stuffed animals).

We become attached to these objects because they hold some sort of meaning for us. It starts at an early age; for example, you may have carried around a security blanket like Linus from the “Peanuts” comic strip, or had a plastic sippy cup that you took everywhere.

These things may give us a feeling of comfort or protection, even if only temporarily. When we are young, it’s considered normal to drag these things around, but as we get older, we’re often encouraged to leave them behind.

The objects of our affection aren’t limited to only super furry stuffed animals and blankies.

People get attached to all sorts of things, such as their favorite pillow, their credit card, their car, or other things they think they can’t live without.

But I’m talking about a deeper, more emotional connection.

I have plenty of items laying around that I wouldn’t dream of throwing away: old letters from friends, a ring my grandmother gave me before she passed away, an empty perfume bottle of the fragrance my mom wore when I was a kid.

These relics remind me of something I had in the past that I no longer have direct access to, but can recapture for a moment when I sit down with my possessions.

Graduate student Josh Geist is a case in point. His giant soda mug is an irreplaceable object. He and his roommate would take trips to 7-Eleven to fill up on soda and fill each other in on their day.

Over the years, friends have carved their names in his mug, which he fondly has named, “Buck.”

When asked how he would feel if he were to lose this mug, he replied that it “would be like losing a photo album. Buck is a physical incarnation of a set of memories.”

Without Buck, some reminders of the time he has spent with his loved ones would be gone. Memories like these, of people, places and events, are what we carry around with us in these objects.

Items like these can be a comfort to students who are living on their own for the first time, or anyone who feels homesick.

Having something nearby that reminds you of home can ease the difficult transition into adulthood.

That we forge a bond with such objects is undeniable; the fact that we often give names and assign gender to them is proof of such.

It’s perfectly okay to cling to what makes us feel better, even if we get a few strange looks. We should embrace and celebrate these things.

And tonight, I will hold my moose close as I drift off to sleep.

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