I’m not really sure what to say. I’ve never had to write one of these before. I really miss you… It’s been a month already, but I still can’t stop thinking about you.
You were always there when I needed you, as long as I could find you. You never said
anything bad, you never complained, just did the only thing you knew how to do.
Looking back on it, I’ve realized you actually lived a long, healthy life. It’s a shame it
ended so abruptly, and I have no one but myself to blame.
In a fit of rage, thanks to a devastating New York Giants loss to the Eagles, I grabbed
a hold of you, and threw you straight across the room. Just like that, you, my favorite little
backscratcher, were gone forever.
I was left, scared and alone, having to pick up your shattered wooden remains from all
over the bedroom floor. I couldn’t afford to give you a proper burial, so I had to reluctantly
throw all of you in the garbage. To this day I haven’t replaced you.
How could I? You, the most reliable itch reliever in all the known world, personally
handed down to me from my father, a sacred Otero heirloom? It’s simply unthinkable.
I’ll admit, just the other day I was looking through some at the local dollar store. None
of them can compare to you. They’re all either shaped like some crazy animal with claws that
scratch you, or they’re too blunt to relieve even the smallest itch. You were the perfect tool; no
complicated design, all form and function.
That’s what I’ll miss the most about you: your simplicity, your elegance, and your
eagerness to perform your carpenter given duty. I grew up knowing that, whenever I called on
you, you would scratch my back and I wouldn’t have to scratch yours. And now you’re nothing
but a memory.
So, I want to take this opportunity to say my last goodbye, and let you know that I
honestly did not mean for what happened to happen. But deep down, I know you knew that to be
I know you’re out there, hopefully being recycled so you can live another fulfilling
wooden life, and I just want you to know that there will NEVER be another like you, but I think
you and I both know that.
-With great remorse and sincerity, Your greatest friend,