<div id="readability-page-1"><div>Midnight approached on Christmas Eve 2023, and I was in tears. I was curled up in my childhood bedroom in Tampa, Florida, home for the holidays and staring at the walls of the same room where I’d slept each Christmas Eve from ages 6 to 18. Back then, I’d drifted off to sleep anticipating the rituals of Christmas morning. That night, however, there were no presents under the tree, and my dad had gone to bed sullen and uncharacteristically withdrawn — partially from the dexamethasone he’d been prescribed to reduce brain swelling but mainly because he’d just learned his metastatic cancer could not be cured.After living with esophageal adenocarcinoma for nearly five years, my dad had wound up in the emergency room on Dec. 1 with severe weakness and imbalance. An MRI revealed fluid buildup in his brain — not unexpected, given that he’d had surgeries two years in a row to remove brain metastases, followed by multiple rounds of targeted radiation.Also Read: When My Husband Died Suddenly, One Of His Family Members Said 5 Words That Taunted Me For YearsWe initially held onto hope that these symptoms were side effects from previous treatments. But after meeting with his neuro-oncological team, we learned that stubborn cancer cells were still present in his brain tissue.My dad’s options were limited: undergo a more aggressive surgery and risk permanent immobility and cognitive loss, or meet with a specialist who could prescribe drugs that might slow progression. Neither treatment was guaranteed to work, and neither offered a cure. My dad refused a third brain surgery and chose the second option.I immediately booked a flight home from San Francisco to attend his appointments.Christmas was nearing, but my parents and I couldn’t think about shopping or baking cookies. I knew we were all wondering the same thing, though we were each too afraid to say it out loud: Was this our last Christmas together?<figure><div><div><img src="https://imageproxy.pbkrs.com/https://s.yimg.com/ny/api/res/1.2/zFDFeW4ebgI7YFv2O85DNg--/YXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjt3PTEyNDI7aD0xNTc5/https://media.zenfs.com/en/the_huffington_post_584/32230807f04a4e810bebe0e661873320?x-oss-process=image/auto-orient,1/interlace,1/resize,w_1440,h_1440/quality,q_95/format,jpg" width="630" height="801" original-src="https://imageproxy.pbkrs.com/https://s.yimg.com/ny/api/res/1.2/zFDFeW4ebgI7YFv2O85DNg--/YXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjt3PTEyNDI7aD0xNTc5/https://media.zenfs.com/en/the_huffington_post_584/32230807f04a4e810bebe0e661873320"/></div></div><figcaption>The author and her parents in San Francisco circa 1988. Courtesy of Lauren C. Johnson</figcaption></figure>Meanwhile, I tried not to give into the jealousy and sorrow I felt as I scrolled through photos of my friends’ holiday celebrations. When I joined my dad on the couch to watch Tampa Bay Buccaneers games, I found myself resenting the colorful lights on the pirate ship that rises above Raymond James Stadium’s north end zone. It felt like everyone was merry and bright except us.Still, we kept our ritual of decorating the Christmas tree. We covered it in red satin doves, ornaments purchased as mementos throughout my parents’ 50-year relationship, Hummels that had belonged to my grandparents, and the kind of midcentury-style tinsel that dripped from the branches like icicles.Also Read: After Our Son Died, My Husband Gave Me The Most Meaningful Christmas Gift Of My LifeBeneath the tree, instead of presents, the 20 My Little Ponies I’d played with as a child paraded across the handmade skirt.I had found them in a Tupperware container shoved in the back of our office closet about a week before Christmas. Most were first-generation ponies from the 1980s and early 1990s, but some were the second-generation ponies I’d bought in seventh and eighth grade with my allowance money and kept hidden from my friends because I’d have been mortified if they knew I was still collecting them. I also found a couple of miniatures from McDonald’s Happy Meals.I’d assumed my beloved plastic ponies had been donated long ago or ended up in a landfill somewhere, so I was shocked to see them all in relatively good condition — nothing worse than tangled manes and tails, and a few smudges from when I’d tried to paint their hooves with nail polish.For the uninitiated, My Little Pony is toy line and franchise created by Bonnie Zacherle for Hasbro. According to the Strong National Museum of Play, the prototype launched in 1981 as My Pretty Pony, an 11-inch-tall toy that could swish its tail, wiggle its ears and wink. When the toy failed to gain traction, it was rebranded in 1983 as My Little Pony: a smaller version with a soft plastic body, fantastical colors and whimsical patterns on its flanks.<figure><div><div><img src="https://imageproxy.pbkrs.com/https://s.yimg.com/ny/api/res/1.2/ZCEZMCcgrei.NOOwN2jQdA--/YXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjt3PTEyNDI7aD0xMzU0/https://media.zenfs.com/en/the_huffington_post_584/75fe5c597bcbf568e8a4d77b41ad94da?x-oss-process=image/auto-orient,1/interlace,1/resize,w_1440,h_1440/quality,q_95/format,jpg" width="630" height="687" original-src="https://imageproxy.pbkrs.com/https://s.yimg.com/ny/api/res/1.2/ZCEZMCcgrei.NOOwN2jQdA--/YXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjt3PTEyNDI7aD0xMzU0/https://media.zenfs.com/en/the_huffington_post_584/75fe5c597bcbf568e8a4d77b41ad94da"/></div></div><figcaption>The author's collection of ponies from childhood under the Christmas tree in 2023. Courtesy of Lauren C. Johnson</figcaption></figure>From 1983 to 1992, Hasbro produced 1,200 different My Little Pony toys in variations ranging from pink pegasi to purple unicorns to bath toys with pony heads and seahorse bodies to ponies with glittering, translucent bodies adorned with space-themed patterns. Due to falling sales after 1990 and pressure from competitors, Hasbro discontinued the toys. But My Little Pony lived on in the public’s collective imagination, and Hasbro redesigned and rereleased second, third and fourth generations of the toys from 1997 to 2021.When Hasbro released Generation 4 along with the television show “My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic,” something intriguing happened. The cartoon, created by Lauren Faust of “The Powerpuff Girls” fame, became a hit with kids, but also many adults. It even spawned a surprising new community known as the bronies, a fandom that started with adult men but welcomes fans of all genders who unironically enjoy the television series.Also Read: My Soulmate Fell In Love With My Roommate. It Took Me Years To Figure Out What Happened.I wasn’t thinking about the My Little Pony franchise evolution or whether I was destined to become an adult superfan the day I found my decades-old collection. I was just thrilled to be reunited with this part of my childhood.I’d received most of these toys when I was 5 and my parents and I still lived in San Francisco, where I was born. Finding the ponies provided an immediate connection to this time in our family history — an era my parents always spoke of as one of the happiest in their lives. I even remembered taking these toys with me to play with them during Giants games at the old Candlestick Park.I brought my ponies into the living room where my dad was watching TV and brushed their manes before displaying them beneath the tree. This got a laugh out of my dad, who teased me for being too old to play with them. (I was four months away from turning 39.) For a moment, we felt more like ourselves again. The ponies didn’t save Christmas, but they provided something we desperately needed: lightheartedness.After Christmas, my dad began receiving Avastin infusions, and it felt like we were able to catch our breath after weeks of uncertainty about which treatments to pursue next. My parents and husband reminded me that I hadn’t asked for anything for Christmas, so when they tried to offer gift suggestions, I said, “Well, how about vintage My Little Ponies?”Also Read: I've Been Hiding A Lime-Size Hole In The Back Of My Head For 30 YearsI’d already decided I would take my childhood collection back home with me to San Francisco and start seriously building on what I already owned. I visited several vintage toy sellers on Etsy, and picked out Sparkle Pony Sunspot, Princess Brush ’n Grow ponies Brilliant Bloom and Skylark, Princess Tiffany, and Baby Sparkle North Star.And so it began.<figure><div><div><img src="https://imageproxy.pbkrs.com/https://s.yimg.com/ny/api/res/1.2/f68t7tK9DL9.hy5P_ev8oQ--/YXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjt3PTEyNDI7aD05ODA-/https://media.zenfs.com/en/the_huffington_post_584/0ec204da7c03436a29e894656a7a61e0?x-oss-process=image/auto-orient,1/interlace,1/resize,w_1440,h_1440/quality,q_95/format,jpg" width="630" height="497" original-src="https://imageproxy.pbkrs.com/https://s.yimg.com/ny/api/res/1.2/f68t7tK9DL9.hy5P_ev8oQ--/YXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjt3PTEyNDI7aD05ODA-/https://media.zenfs.com/en/the_huffington_post_584/0ec204da7c03436a29e894656a7a61e0"/></div></div><figcaption>The author and her dad outside of Oracle Park Stadium in 2021. Courtesy of Lauren C. Johnson</figcaption></figure>Throughout January, I felt like I was living suspended between my dad’s scans. I passed the time by checking Etsy, eBay and Mercari in hopes of completing my collection of the 1987 and 1988 princess lines. I had to be careful — some were outrageously expensive, while others were cheap but clearly preloved by children who had cut their manes, smudged their eyes and chewed on their ears.The hours I spent hunting and browsing across web tabs provided me a bit of a distraction from what was happening with my dad, and I was grateful for it. The ponies came in an array of jewel-toned colors, and their accessories included magic wands and glittering combs shaped like tiaras. Collecting them evoked a feeling like visiting Cinderella Castle at Disney World.Also Read: 20 Years Ago I Sent Myself An Email. It Just Showed Up.When I knew my dad had upcoming CT scans, I splurged on two expensive restored ponies: a bright yellow pony with a pink tinsel mane called Princess Moondust and a blue pony with a white mane named Princess Taffeta. Both were professionally restored — heads removed to clean out rust from the inside, tails and hair refreshed, decorated with new ribbons and accessories — and both cost over $60 each.In mid-February, my dad was diagnosed with leptomeningeal disease, a metastasis that spreads to the cerebrospinal fluid and leptomeninges, the membranes that protect the brain and spinal cord. Though LMD is considered a rare metastasis affecting only about 5-10% of all cancer patients, these numbers are rising as people live longer with advanced cancer.My dad immediately began whole-brain radiation but was told he only had months to live. I filed for a leave of absence from work and flew back to Tampa. My dad made it through eight rounds of whole-brain radiation before becoming too sick to receive more treatments. He entered home hospice in late March and passed away on March 28 — the opening day of baseball season and just minutes after the Giants game ended.My leave of absence from work converted to bereavement leave, and my husband and I eventually returned to San Francisco. I don’t have specific memories of how I spent those first foggy weeks, other than training for the San Francisco Marathon — which I’d signed up for in honor of my dad — and scouring the internet for My Little Ponies. One purchase led to another, and I completed the 1987 and 1988 princess lines before finishing my Sparkle Pony collection.During that time my husband would often return home to find another eBay or Etsy package in our apartment hallway by the mailbox and ask, “Another one?” I ordered over 30 ponies that summer and spent nearly $1,000 before I decided I’d gone overboard and put the kibosh on new purchases for the rest of the year.<figure><div><div><img src="https://imageproxy.pbkrs.com/https://s.yimg.com/ny/api/res/1.2/Bhe_uZW6DJtDiNY20YDxgw--/YXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjt3PTEyNDI7aD0xNjA5/https://media.zenfs.com/en/the_huffington_post_584/690878d156beec235a0fcba365e90f16?x-oss-process=image/auto-orient,1/interlace,1/resize,w_1440,h_1440/quality,q_95/format,jpg" width="630" height="816" original-src="https://imageproxy.pbkrs.com/https://s.yimg.com/ny/api/res/1.2/Bhe_uZW6DJtDiNY20YDxgw--/YXBwaWQ9aGlnaGxhbmRlcjt3PTEyNDI7aD0xNjA5/https://media.zenfs.com/en/the_huffington_post_584/690878d156beec235a0fcba365e90f16"/></div></div><figcaption>The author and her My Little Pony collection Courtesy of Lauren C. Johnson</figcaption></figure>Today, my collection includes over 70 My Little Ponies, including the holy grail I could never get my hands on as a child: the Dream Castle from 1983. I’ve learned that with enough time and patience, thrift shops are great places to find these vintage toys at a lower price point. I no longer feel pressured to buy the most expensive restored ponies because I’ve picked up restoration tricks from the other adult collectors I follow in Facebook groups. Through these communities, I’ve realized I’m not the only 40-year-old who’s taken comfort in toy collecting.Perhaps what I’d consider a surprising grief response is part of a larger cultural trend: “kidulting,” which involves adults consuming entertainment typically created for children. If the current Labubu craze is any indicator, kidulting has reached a fever pitch. Pop Mart, the Chinese toy company behind these viral monster plushies and bag charms, reported a 170% year-over-year revenue increase in Q1, according to a recent article in Town &amp; Country.However, the trend in adults purchasing children’s toys for themselves can’t be attributed solely to celebrities like Lisa from Blackpink attaching charms resembling demonic Teletubbies to their designer purses. Steve Totzke, president and chief commercial officer of Mattel, told the Los Angeles Times that adult collectors can account for up to 25% of toy sales.I think a friend of mine said it best when I told her about my newfound collecting hobby: She suggested that the My Little Ponies must remind me of a time in my life when I felt most safe in the world. So, it makes sense that collecting them is a way to stay connected to those childhood memories and to my dad — something I’m deeply grateful for and don’t take for granted. Through all of this, I’ve learned that grief manifests in unexpected ways, and sometimes that means splurging on toys from the 1980s.It’s been a year and a half since I lost my dad, and collecting has grown into something that’s more than a coping mechanism. It’s opened the door to new memories and connections — both online and in person. I still haven’t watched an episode of “Friendship is Magic,” but I am a member of multiple Facebook groups for Generation 1 collectors, especially for restorations. I’ve also found joy and entertainment watching restoration tips on YouTube. When my friends’ children have birthdays, they can count on me to send them My Little Ponies and cards with envelopes covered in pony stickers. I hope that as these younger friends grow up, they’ll have happy childhood associations with the toys, just like I did.Lauren C. Johnson is a San Francisco-based author and content marketing specialist. Her debut novel, “The West Façade,” is forthcoming from Santa Fe Writers Project in March 2026. She’s the interviews editor for The Racket Journal, where she champions experimental literature, and is a co-founder and editor of Club Chicxulub, a speculative fiction journal and reading series that amplifies emerging authors. She also co-hosts Babylon Salon, one of the longest-running reading series in the Bay Area. Her short stories, interviews and essays have appeared in 15 literary journals and magazines, including The Rumpus and Orion Magazine online.Do you have a compelling personal story you’d like to see published on HuffPost? Find out what we’re looking for here and send us a pitch at pitch@huffpost.com.<h3>Related...</h3><ul><li>People Think It's Creepy For Adult Women To Have This Hobby. I'm Doing It Anyway.</li><li>I Was One Of The Most Famous Pop Stars In The World. No One Knew The Secret Pain I Hid.</li><li>I Had A Crush On My Married Video Store Clerk For 7 Years. Then I Got A Message I Never Expected.</li></ul>Read the original on HuffPost</div></div>

PONY

A woman finds unexpected comfort in her childhood My Little Pony toys while dealing with her father's terminal cancer diagnosis during Christmas 2023. The toys, discovered in a Tupperware in her parents' closet, evoke memories of happier times and provide solace amidst the emotional turmoil of potentially spending their last Christmas together.

As My Dad Was Dying, A Tupperware I Found In My Parents' Closet Brought Me The Most Unexpected Comfort