The Calico Pen: Left with painful gap … in many ways

How do we say goodbye to lifelong companions? Or, for that matter, how do we possibly go on with without them? Of course, we do, but it is not life as we knew it.

Pearly and I were together from our grade school years at Emerson. The first time I noticed her she was just peeking out, but after a few shy peeks she came forward and I liked her right away. We shared all the usual childhood adventures.

With her, I learned to whistle and we won several bubble gum contests. The state fair was one of our favorite places to go and we gobbled caramel apples, cotton candy and sweet corn-on-the-cob between the rodeo events and carnival rides.

We were almost separated when I was knocked unconscious while riding a yearling steer at one of those rodeos. On Halloween, we went to every door in our neighborhood until our pillowcase was stuffed with candy. That candy was gone by the time Santa left a stocking full of peppermint and chocolate treats that lasted until Valentine’s Day and after that, we had our Easter baskets.

When we entered high school, there were new things to experience – lipstick, French kissing and then graduations, weddings and children. Pearly was with me through jaw-clenching pushes when the children were born and she was there and when lip-biting grief came as some of those children died.

I was past 40 when Pearly’s health began to fail. She never fully recovered from the surgery but it wasn’t until her last year that she began to look old and frail. Her color was gray and she didn’t have the shine of her youth. After awhile she couldn’t stand straight and it looked like she would need assistance from her next-door neighbors just to stand at all.

Then infection set in and pain became a constant companion. I made the decision to pull the life support and Pearly died on Nov. 15, 2004.

I was left with a painful gap that I doubted would ever heal. Others told me I would eventually fill the emptiness and I have, but it is not the same. I know that there can never be another like my very own pearly front tooth.

February is national Children’s Dental Health Month. The tooth fairy is real but she only leaves money for baby teeth and if you don’t want to look like a jack-o-lantern when you’re old, brush and floss everyday.

(Carol Holoboff is a former Libby resident who now writes her column from Great Falls).