Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Bear Tales

On of my favorite blogs, Bag Blog, had a picture of a teddy bear that she has had since she was a child. It got me to thinking about my own teddy bear... who unfortunately met his demise when I was about 11 years old. When my Uncle first gave him to me (as a baby), he looked very similar to this....
Over the years, his hair grew thin, then sparse, then non-existent. (He was a bare bear!) His button eyes fell off, replaced by magic marker eyes and eyebrows. His nose button managed to remain in place but his mouth, which had at one time been discernable, no longer existed. He survived eleven years of; being hugged, slept with, kissed, thrown, tossed up in the air, tossed back and forth as a baseball, torpedoed at a taunting brother, endless washing machine cycles, and traveled from home to Grandma's house, to various Aunt and Uncle's houses, and back home again. He died at the hands of my brother.... who tossed him out of the upstairs window intentionally, down into the empty chamber pot that sat below . Yes, I said chamber pot! In old New England houses, the staircases are steep and narrow. My mother, being a "worrier", thought it better for us to use chamber pots at night, rather than try to negotiate the stairs in the dark. Every day our chore was to bring the pots downstairs to empty. After emptying them, we would put them out by the water spigot to be cleaned with bleach, etc. My brother swears to this day he didn't know the pot was down there, but I never believed him! My mother, who saw my poor little bear lying in the chamber pot; hairless and beaten, decided it was time for him to go the way of all old toys.... and in an uncerimonious jerk, she tossed him into the trash can! (I have fully recovered, rest assured). In doing a google search for the above picture, it became clear that many, many people had teddy bears. It made me wonder if all of those grown ups who grew up with a teddy bear, might have a story to tell about the life and times of their own bear? Let it be known, from this day hence, that this post will serve as a forum for "Bear Tales"! Please feel free to leave your bear story in comments....

Have a Beary Nice Day!

9 comments:

  1. Didn't have a bear, but I STILL miss my Tonka trucks... sigh...

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  2. I didn't have a bear either, but I love your story. Thank you for sharing it with us.

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  3. Your story brought back memories of my own brother and I fighting as kids and stuffed animals becoming "torpedoes." My brother once ripped a stuffed bunny in a fit of anger with me. He often held my animals as ransom. Hmm, I'm not sure if those are memories I want to relive. I will have to come up with something else.

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  4. Jim - my brother loved Tonka trucks! We would play for hours, out under the fir trees, digging, bulldozing, building! It was pretty much the only time we didn't fuss with each other!
    Sharon - no bear? Did you have a favorite doll?
    Lou - I know what you mean.... there was the time I chased my brother around the back yard with a 2x4 - but that story is better left untold...!

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  5. Yep, we just grow up and get BIGGER trucks :-)

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  6. I chased my brother with a baseball bat, but could not catch him - thank goodness.

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  7. I had a stuffed rabbit and a blankie....they are worn to shreds but I still have both packed away!

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  8. I had no bear either, but my youngest sister had a pink bear who eventually became terribly "hairless and beaten" also. We had a very merciful mother though and "Pinky" went through many miraculous surgeries throughout our chilhood. I think my sister still has him.
    I did have many hot wheels, probably because I was trying to part time as a son for Dad on account of feeling sorry for him for having 4 girls and no sons! I did loved hanging with my dad!

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  9. No bear here. But I love reading other folks' stories about theirs!

    No Tonka trucks, either... I came along before their time. I DID have TONS of model airplanes, though. My ceiling was a mixed-bag dogfight of airplanes (from different eras... WW I through the Cold War) meticulously hung by threads from said ceiling. And those models were continuously falling down, too... which necessitated repair and re-hanging. Great fun for me then!

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