I Still Have My Teddy Bear

Childhood Memories and Memorabilia

Petey:

He is so fragile now that playing with him would cause him to fall apart. Petey was a hand me down from an older cousin and given to me when I was three years old. He was smooth and didn't have fur but had a green felt with a white belly and white markings. His eyes are felt as well, and he was stuffed with beans. Over the years, I drew on him, pierced his ears, gave him makeovers and drug him through the mud. He still has stains from the early 80s.

I replaced the sagging bean filling with cotton fluff in my early teens, and he has been sewn several times from various tears. One infamous one is between his legs, which I sewed with red thread as that was all I had when I was 13. Today he sits on top of my wardrobe, watching the world. My daughter is still trying to get a cuddle off him, but I refuse each time. Each time I look at Petey, an avalanche of memories flood my mind.

The above are only a few bright memories that flash across my inner vision. Even though I'm 45 years old now, those moments are burned into my memory, and I can still feel myself in my younger body as if I were there once again.

Theodore:

The first Christmas my husband and I had together, he gave me a giant teddy. He is the size of a toddler, and I named him Theodore. Today, 23 years later, he still sleeps in my bed, and I often cuddle him in my sleep. But, honestly, that bear gets more cuddles than my husband!

It is a family joke that Teddy was our first child and is our eldest. The kids shake their heads and ignore it. They are used to their mom's weirdness. No one has ever called me normal, and honestly, none of us claims to be normal in our family. It's kind of our motto.

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