Who’s Your Unicorn?
“I have forgotten that men cannot see unicorns. If men no longer know what they’re looking at, there may be other unicorns in the world yet, unknown, and glad of it.”—The Last Unicorn (1982 movie) based on the novel by Peter S. Beagle.
Don’t believe anyone who tells you unicorns don’t exist. I’ve met one. And no, I’m not talking about those pictures that occasionally circle the internet of goats who’ve had their horns trained to twist together to look like a single horn.
I’ve met a real, live unicorn. She just didn’t look like what most people might expect.
Accounts differ about where the unicorn legend originated, but the most consistent picture of them is of a white horse with a single spiral horn growing from their forehead. As every little girl will tell you, they’re exceptionally beautiful.
Their horn soon became known as the bane of evil. A unicorn horn could drive away evil, neutralize poison, and kill any monster it came into contact with. Both their horn and their blood were said to have healing properties.
In China, unicorns came to symbolize wisdom. They were the kings among the animals. In the United Kingdom, they symbolized purity and many kings made them part of their heraldry.
They were and are beloved for a very simple reason.
Unicorns are the embodiment of good.
My unicorn had dark hair, hands that were cold even in summer, and an infectious laugh. She was exceptionally beautiful both inside and out.
Her name was Amanda, and she was one of my best friends. In 2001, a repeat-offender drunk driver with a blood alcohol level of twice the legal limit and a suspended license slammed into her driver’s side door at 100/mph (160 km/h). After 21 hours in a coma, she died. In a way, it was a blessing. The doctors said even if she’d woken up, she’d never have been the Amanda we knew again.
For a year, I brought flowers to her grave every Friday. I went because I missed her, but to be honest, I think I went more because of the fear that if I skipped even one week it would mean I’d forgotten her. And she deserved to be remembered.
Then, a year after her death, sitting on the soggy ground beside her grave, I finally realized the best way to honor and remember her wasn’t to sit in the cold and cry. It wasn’t to bring her flowers. It was to let her life and who she was motivate me to be a better person.
When you cut away all the myths and speculations and stories, unicorns are the things that make us want to be better simply by knowing of them, by being around them. They are what we aspire to be.
Amanda was far from perfect, but I can’t remember the imperfections anymore. What I do remember is her creativity, her cheerfulness, her refusal to let anyone change who she was, her determination and strong work ethic, her soft heart for hurting people.
The qualities I still remember best about her are the ones I want people to one day remember about me too.
I’m far from perfect. I’m still far from being the person I want to be. But I hope that one day, if I keep working at it, I’ll be someone’s unicorn too.
Who’s your unicorn? What is it about them that you so admire? How have they helped you become a better person?
58 Comments
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[...] Who’s Your Unicorn? – In today’s post, Marcy defends the argument that unicorns are real–they just don’t look like what people expect (and no, she doesn’t mean those stupid goats with trained horns). [...]
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[...] the person who symbolizes all things good and brings out the best in us, even after we are parted. Who’s Your Unicorn? image from [...]
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[...] post by Marcy Kennedy Who’s Your Unicorn? (Caution: Get tissues before [...]
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[...] heart and made me realize that all around us are unicorns, we just have to open our eyes to them. Marcy Kennedy’s touching story of her friend Amanda spoke to me to be grateful to those in my [...]
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[...] was inspired by Marci Kennedy’s post about Amanda, her beloved and inspiring best friend, who was killed by a drunk driver. Marci asked [...]
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[...] Basaraba, Sheila Seabrook and Raelyn Barclay. This week’s winners are: Jessica O’Neal, Marcy Kennedy and Fabio [...]
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[...] I loved, loved Marcy’s story. It shook me. Who’s Your Unicorn? [...]
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Post a Comment
Paul Anthony Shortt says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 9:46am
Mine was my son, Conor. He was only with us for three days, but he touched the lives of people who never even met him. He showed my wife and I how strong we can be and how many people love us, taught us that no moment should be wasted, no opportunity to show love, spread happiness, or seize goals should be left behind.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 9:56am
I’m sorry you had Conor with you for such a short time. It sounds like he made more of an impact in his three days of life than some people make in 60 years. He left a beautiful legacy.
Paul Anthony Shortt says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 10:44am
Thank you. He really did. Even our friends who never knew him think about him a lot.
Pat O'Dea Rosen says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 10:20am
Lovely post and lovely tribute to Amanda, Marcy.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 10:44am
Thank you
Tim O'Brien says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 10:45am
Marcy, what a beautiful post about your friend. I love the transition of how you honor her. Very thoughtful post.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 8:37pm
Thank you, Tim
Ellan Bethia says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 11:09am
What a thought-provoking post. I will never think of unicorns the say way again. Which is probably good, since I was never fond of them (their representations at least).
What I find inspiring, though, is the idea that one can aspire to be a unicorn, also.
Beautifully written and heartfelt. Thank you.
Ellan Bethia says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 11:10am
*same way
Marcy Kennedy says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 3:52pm
Thank you for the lovely compliment. I’m glad you enjoyed the post, and that I’ve changed the way you’ll think about unicorns in the future
I wanted to go back to what seemed to be (to me anyway) their essence.
Fabio Bueno says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 12:02pm
Moving and very beautiful. Amanda was lucky to have you too.
Thank you, Marcy.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 3:49pm
It’s strange how after you lose someone you always wish you could have done more for them while they were with you. I struggled a lot right after she died wondering if I’d been the friend she deserved. Thank you for saying something so kind.
Coleen Patrick says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 12:22pm
This is a great post Marcy!! I never thought about unicorns this way and now I’m thinking about all the special people in my life–thanks
Marcy Kennedy says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 8:38pm
I’m glad you enjoyed it. Thanks so much for reading and for your tweet.
Ginger Calem says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 12:51pm
Beautiful post, Marcy. My unicorn is my Aunt Alice. I think of her every single day and she’s in my heart always!
Marcy Kennedy says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 3:42pm
They have a way of staying with us always
Your aunt must have been a wonderful woman.
Alicia Street says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 3:32pm
This is such a beautiful post, Marcy! Can’t say I have a person who is that to me, but the essence if it is very real.
I love unicorns and have used them in both stories and dances.
I also loved the book The Last Unicorn, which is on your image post. My request to you as a writer would be that you credit the author of that novel, Peter S. Beagle.
Thanks for sharing this heartfelt story.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 3:41pm
Very true. I was thinking of the movie version, but I should have referenced the novel’s author since if he hadn’t written such a wonderful story, the movie never could have existed. I’ve updated the post to give credit where it’s due
I practically had the story memorized as a child.
Kristen Lamb says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 4:32pm
OMG….wow. I have tears. Bravo. THIS is why I love what I do.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 8:40pm
I owe you a debt of gratitude, Kristen. If I hadn’t read your books and taken your blogging class, I wouldn’t have had the courage to write this post.
Xandra James says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 4:38pm
That was very beautiful. Thanks for sharing x
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 8:22pm
Thank you for stopping by and reading.
Jessica R. Patch says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 4:45pm
Such a beautiful post, Marcy. Thank you for this.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 8:23pm
Thanks Jessica. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Sheila Seabrook says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 5:14pm
What a lovely way to honor and remember Amanda, Marcy. My unicorn would be my grandma, who was kind and gentle and strong.
Thank you for a heartfelt post.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 8:42pm
Thanks Sheila. It felt really good to write this post and let people know what a wonderful person she was. She made a difference in a lot of lives.
Next to parents, I think grandparents have the opportunity to make the biggest impression in a child or teenager’s life
I’m glad you had such a wonderful grandma.
Rachel says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 5:30pm
Hi Marcy,
What a lovely post! I had a unicorn in my life, her name was Sherryl, she was my older half-sister. She died when I was 17 and I was not a very good sister when she died. I was more concerned about what I was going to wear to the prom, than to go to visit her in the hospital as she died of cancer. This was back in 1980, before hospice and before the more effective cancer treatments. One of the saddest days was when Christian, her then boyfriend, married her, in the hospital, and we tried out best to make a lovely wedding for her. She was a brilliant shining light and her death taught me how important it is to savor the wonderful things in my life.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 8:27pm
It’s a beautiful thing you did for her to help her have her wedding even though she was in the hospital. I’m certain she would be proud of the person you’ve become.
Prudence MacLeod says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 5:32pm
Straight from the heart, Marcy, and beautifully done. Thank you for sharing.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 8:42pm
Thanks, Prudence
Nicole Maggi says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 7:25pm
My unicorn is my mom. She died when I was 14, way too young and way too full of life. She’s with me every single day, and I see her big blue-grey unicorn eyes every time I look at my daughter (who also has her name). I’ve always thought of her as my guardian angel, but now I’ll be thinking of her as my unicorn. Thanks for this beautiful post, Marcy.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 8:49pm
I’m so sorry you lost your mom so young. That’s much too early. I can’t even imagine how difficult it would have been to not have her around. Naming your daughter after her is a beautiful way to honor her memory.
Lisa Hall-Wilson says:
Thursday, December 1, 2011 at 9:54pm
A fitting tribute. I know how close you were. It’s difficult to be so honest and transparent. Good job. Well written.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 8:31pm
Thanks, Lee. You’ve always been better than me at transparency, and that’s a quality about you that I admire.
Lynn Kelley says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 12:39am
Oh my, this is breathtakingly beautiful, Marcy.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 8:50pm
Thanks Lynn
Serena Dracis says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 1:53am
You made me cry! That was really touching, and you told it beautifully. The Last Unicorn, I read and re-read when I was younger. Super post!
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 9:39pm
Thanks
The Last Unicorn was one of my favorite stories growing up too.
August McLaughlin says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 10:14am
Trying to type through tears, here…
Thanks for this inspiring, loving tribute, Marcy. May Amanda’s legacy make us all think twice before driving while compromised.
I’m sure I have unicorns of my own, but at the moment, the only one who comes to mind is Amanda. Today, I’ll honor her. *hugs*
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 9:37pm
Thank you for honoring Amanda
That means a lot to me.
Piper Bayard says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 10:29am
What a powerful post, and what an amazing friendship you shared.
I have been blessed with several unicorns in my life. The first was my teacher/mentor/other mother Elmarine, without whom I would have ended up the Queen of a Double Wide Trailer with five children and four baby daddies. She was a woman who had survived the Great Depression, polio, and early widowhood with two babies to support. She understood everything about me and my life, and when I told her my problems, she always said, “That’s tough, kid. Now, what are you going to do about it?” Then, she helped me grow through the pain.
My current unicorn is my writing partner, Holmes. He has had an amazing life that, if it were a novel, an editor would turn it away for lack of credibility. He is the strongest, most honorable human I’ve ever known, and he gives me courage to do my best without counting the cost.
Thank you for telling us about Amanda, and how her legacy lives on.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 9:51pm
Thanks for sharing about your unicorns. I’m sure a lot of us are thankful Elmarine kept you from becoming Queen of the Double Wide so you could write with Holmes and run for president with Kristen. We need more common sense in our politics (on both sides of the border)
Angela Wallace says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 1:13pm
Amazing post, Marcy. Very beautiful.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 9:39pm
Thanks Angela
Justine Dare Davis says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 2:07pm
Beautiful post, Marcy, and thanks to Piper for leading me here. It’s made me think and realize I’ve had two in my life, first my husband, who was so good with people, had rarely wrong instincts about them, and had an need to help that was beautiful. He was outgoing and made good friends easily, the perfect antidote to “I’d rather sit back and watch” me. My current unicorn is, perhaps oddly, a dog. My sweet, very old, wobbly Lab, who is showing me the way to walk that path we all must some day, with a grace that shames me, I’m so far from it.
I, too, am far from the person I want to be. But your post has helped me remember why I must keep trying.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 9:43pm
I don’t think it’s odd at all. Pets become parts of our family, and if we’re willing to learn, they have a lot to teach. My “puppy” just turned a year old and every day she reminds me about joy.
Julie Hedlund says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 2:20pm
Marcy, this is one of the most beautiful posts I’ve ever read. Thank you for sharing the impact Amanda’s life had on you and how you honor her.
My unicorns are my children – magic and love in every possible way.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Friday, December 2, 2011 at 9:45pm
Thank you for that lovely compliment, Julie. I bet your children feel the same way about you. Moms are like superheros to their kids.
Debra Kristi says:
Saturday, December 3, 2011 at 2:14am
Masterfully written Marcy. A perfect tribute to your friend. It truly tugged at all my heart strings. I will never look at unicorns the same way. You have elevated them for me to an even higher status among the mythical creatures.
I don’t think it would surprise many here to hear me say my unicorn is my sister younger sister.
Thank you for this heartfelt post.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Saturday, December 3, 2011 at 11:32pm
Thank you
Your post about your sister was beautiful as well, and you’re right–I’m not surprised that she’s your unicorn.
I’m going to include the link to your post here in my comment so that others will know where to find it: http://debrakristi.wordpress.com/2011/11/17/golden-sky-showers-of-a-sister-remembered/
Angela Orlowski-Peart says:
Saturday, December 3, 2011 at 11:26pm
Such a heartfelt post, and a beautiful tribute to Amanda. I am so sorry you’ve lost your wonderful friend.
I think I have had more than one unicorn in the past. Those that are gone are forever alive in my heart. I also have two tiny unicorns in my life now — beautiful and unconditionally loving me. My children. I can only hope they will stay my unicorns always.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Monday, December 5, 2011 at 9:28pm
Thanks, Angela. Even if your little unicorns turn into dragons for awhile during the teenage years, I’m sure that they’ll come back. The ones with loving moms usually do.
Louise Behiel says:
Sunday, December 4, 2011 at 1:07am
Beautiful post, Marcy and a wonderful, moving tribute to your friend Amanda. My unicorn was my grandmother who lived her life on her terms – every single day. She wore trousers in the mid 60s when other women didn’t. Had an honest and direct sense of humor that taught me to tell the truth and proved to me that there was nothing I could (or my kids) that she hadn’t considered or done before I was ever born. she was a god send to me,
thanks for b ringing her to mind again.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Monday, December 5, 2011 at 9:32pm
You’re very welcome, Louise. It sounds like your grandmother was both a brave and a wise woman. It’s no surprise she was so influential in your life and the lives of your children.
Bridgette Booth says:
Monday, December 5, 2011 at 8:36am
What a sweet, sweet post. Remembering your friend and her life is a wonderful tribute, just as re-telling her unfortunate death is sobering and helpful for the reality of drunk driving. I walked away from an accident much like you described. It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Monday, December 5, 2011 at 9:42pm
Thanks
I’m glad you did make it out alright. It’s very unfair when the innocent suffer because of someone else’s bad decisions.
Emma Burcart says:
Wednesday, December 7, 2011 at 10:45pm
That was very touching. Thanks for sharing. I feel like I am blessed to have many unicorns in my life.
Marcy Kennedy says:
Thursday, December 8, 2011 at 10:33pm
Thanks, Emma
I’m glad your life is full of unicorns.