Almost a month has passed since National Teddy Bear Day. This is my teddy bear that I have had for 48 years. His little belly had a round ball that when you squeezed him, he would squeak. That wonderful little part of him quit working about seven years ago. I will admit I was a little upset. He stays on a shelf in my room so I can see him and I like to think, he can see me. We have been together so long and share a very precious memory. I remember first seeing him sitting on a braided rug beside a larger brown bear. The larger bear was for my older brother and I received the smaller one.
I walk in to the room. My mom is sitting on the floor,legs to the side,my brother beside her. He was not well and never would be. Never able to play or walk,enjoying the outside or to even hold his own bear. I remember picking my teddy bear up, touching his glass eyes, rubbing my fingers around his ears, folding his arms towards me and back again. Then the memory comes in. This little fellow had an unique smell or odor. I would put him down, pick him back up, smell him, still there. He would sit on my bed, my dresser, in my closet, and still keep the smell.
I grew up, got married, had children. My brother passed away when I was in my mid-20’s. I went and got my bear. I went through my greeting again. Touching the ears, the eyes, squeezing the belly, folding the arms. Then I held him close, pulling his arms around my neck. I bent my head down and in to him and I smelled him. I covered him in tears. He still had not just the strong smell, but the strength to comfort me, taking me back to a very treasured memory of Michael. That glorious wonderful smell that took me back all those years to my brother’s room. I am a grown woman, but I still hold my teddy bear. And he still smells!
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