*spoiler alert* If you have not seen Toy Story 3 and do not want to give away the ending, stop reading now!

Drew and I had been watching the previews of Toy Story 3, and I told him I wanted to see it in theaters. So, on the eve of our second anniversary, we spent a romantic evening watching animated toys on an IMAX screen.

If you’re like me, you’ve kept up with the animated trilogy and have laughed out loud at all the inside jokes. Pixar films are not just meant for the kids. In fact, we noticed last night that the adults outnumbered the kids. Which was probably a good thing, because there were some pretty intense moments in the film. Still family friendly, but it’s like a good action movie; moments where you’re on the edge of your seat, desperate for resolution, when one more plot twist enters the picture. You want to cover your 3D glasses, because you just can’t take anymore.

I always know when a movie is a really good movie when I can’t get it out of my head. Some movies linger in my brain. I think Toy Story is brilliant. What kid didn’t believe their toys came to life when no one was looking? A child’s toys are more than just plastic or fluff. They’re what we confide to when we don’t know who else to turn to. They go through major life transitions, and they never turn their back on us. They are faithful friends.

I have to confess; I cried at the end of the movie. And not just a “Oh, how touching, let me wipe this lone tear off my cheek” kind of cry, but a real, “I’m having to choke back the sobs so people aren’t looking at me funny” kind of cry. I was trying to nonchalantly wipe the tears from behind my 3D glasses before Drew or our friend Daniel would notice. Luckily, I think they were too emotionally involved to even look at me.

Why in the world did an animated kid’s movie touch me so? Perhaps simply because I’m an emotional female, and I cry at just about anything, but I think there was more to it. Throughout the movie, we watch college bound Andy struggle with what to do with his much loved toys. He acts like they’re nothing, and he hasn’t played with them for years, but you can tell they still tug at the emotional strings of his heart. At the end of the movie, he makes a decision to give his toys to a sweet little girl down the street. He pulls each one out of the box, giving the wide eyed little girl a very dramatic introduction of each one. Her smile grows bigger as she welcomes each one into her arms. He finally gets to Woody, his most devoted of toys, and struggles to give him away. He finally does, telling her that Woody is special because he will always be there for you. Then the camera pans out to show Andy running around the yard, involved in one last glorious playtime with his toys and the girl. Then he climbs into his car and drives away, casting one last forlorn look back.  Woody utters, “So long, partner.” *sniff*

While you know that little girl will love those toys, it’s still bittersweet. There goes Andy, driving away in his hatchback wagon. Those are your toys, Andy! You can’t abandon them! Pixar and Disney are masterful story tellers, and have a way of drawing people in. Suddenly it’s not Buzz and Woody up there. It’s G.I. Joe and Suzie Talks a Lot and Herman the elephant. Those are your special toys, your special moments, and you growing up. You walking away from your childhood.

Like any transition, change is difficult. We’d all like to keep things just the way they are. We don’t want our kids growing up and moving away. We don’t want our beloved spouse of fifty years to slowly fade away from us. We don’t want to grow up and move into the real world. We’d rather stay in that safe spot, where everything feels okay. Sometimes, we want to pack up those special memories into a box, and put them into the attic, where we’ll always have them. But really, the best thing to do is to share them, and to let them go. In doing that, there is freedom, and joy in spreading it to others.

I confess, a wave of guilt crept over me as I thought of all the boxes of toys I’ve taken to Goodwill or sold at yard sales. I didn’t keep all my toys together, like one big happy family. They’re like poor little orphan siblings, spread out across different families. And I feel a little sad that there wasn’t a Woody in my life, the constant toy throughout years of change. I had more Bo Peeps, toys that were there for seasons; the My Little Ponies, Cabbage Patch Dolls, and even He Man. But those toys were special for me for those seasons. I’m thankful for them, and for the memories.  But I’m also thankful for the bittersweet moment of change that was destined to come, where I was able to let them go, and move on… to infinity and beyond!