I’m a 20-something that still carries around teddy bears. I’m not ashamed to admit that. I got both of them when I was born, so they are pretty special to me. They have been to every new place that I have travelled to. They have been with me through all my sickness and hospital trips. They have been with me through new relationships and the occasional heartbreak. They are something that I treasure and I plan on passing them on to my own children when the time comes.
I remember kissing the nose of my teddy bear so much that I eventually wore through the fabric. I remember squeezing this teddy bear to my chest when I felt like my heart was going to float away. I can remember carefully placing him on my bed every night when I was little. One thing I cannot remember is how many tears have stained his little body over the years.
I have another teddy bear that isn’t much bigger than my hand. She used to be bright pink and smell of strawberries. I got her when I was one year old. I friggin’ loved that thing to death. I called her ‘Strawberry Bear’ and I would carry her around wherever I went. Most kids wanted a pacifier or a bottle so they could go to sleep, but all I wanted was my teddy bear. I loved her so hard that her fur eventually turned from bright pink to soft pink to white. Her strawberry smell has faded away after all these years and her dress may be torn and tattered, but she’s still my teddy bear.
I can still remember the day that my sister’s puppy got a hold of her. I screamed and pulled her out of the dog’s mouth. Unfortunately, the dog got to keep my teddy bear’s ear…for a while. I can remember my mother sewing the ear on two times when I was little. I decided that I could do my own repairs as I grew up, so now she’s chequered with purple material to hold in her stuffing. She is one loved teddy bear.
If you were born in the nineties then I’m sure you sung this song once or twice. I’m listening to the song as I write this and it is bringing back a million memories from my childhood. I believe I even went to a teddy bears picnic when I was a wee lass.
So, why have I dedicated an entire four hundred words (and counting) to my teddy bears?
I had a real estate agent walk through my room the other day and she happened to comment on the fact that I had them sitting on my bed. The way that she said it made me feel ashamed and like I shouldn’t have them now that I’m “all grown up”. Well, I call bull. I’m sure there will be one day that I want to put them in a cupboard or that they’ll live in the spare room, but today is not that day and tomorrow probably won’t be that day either.
Do any of you have a teddy bear, an old book or a toy that you just can’t part with? Let me know
so I feel like less of a crazy person.