My daughter gave me a teddy bear recently.
I am 51 years old, and I accepted the gift with surprising warmth, as such an item had not featured on any wish list of mine that I can recall in recent years.
I haven’t given my new teddy bear a name, but I have strapped it into the middle seat of my car with the lap and diagonal seat belt so I obviously want to care for it!.
This gift has awoken in me, a childhood memory of the three teddy bears which I had as a child which are lost to my past, regrettably.
I had a traditional teddy bear which was blue which I called “Bluey” (the clue is in the name!), a knitted rabbit, which an aunt of mine knit for me as a baby, which I called “Long Ears” and a small elephant which I called “Dinky”
I have had this image in my head of them being with me in my bed and also lined up on my lap whilst dressed in my pyjamas and dressing gown as a young boy, as I watched television before bedtime.
These memories, which I thought were lost to me, have resurfaced in my life with a vibrancy and a wistfulness for my childhood and my innocence.
I am left with a feeling of gratitude to my parents for nurturing me as a child – I was a child – I was safe – I was loved and I loved my teddy bears.
In the present this wistfulness translates into gratitude to my parents for loving me as an adult – I am an adult – I am safe I am loved and …….. I love my new teddy bear !
Okay, Perhaps I don’t love my new teddy bear just yet, but I’m increasingly fond of it day by day!.
Perhaps it deserves a name? Any ideas?
My next blog will be: St. Hilda of Whitby
Picture Credit: http://www.zazzle.com