When I was deployed for the buildup of the Iraq war, my mom sent me a care package. In it she placed a Gund bear. Yes I was 23 (I think?) but the total alienation by my peers left me very damaged emotionally. Having that stupid bear there really helped. Like a child afraid of the dark I reached for that bear every time I was scared or feeling down (ok.. crying). I got very attached to it. I slept with it every night. Even when I came home I still slept with that bear. Yes, even when staying over with a boyfriend I brought the bear with me. I also brought him on my last deployment to Iraq where the para-rescue guys jumped a mission with him!
After I got out of the military I still slept with that bear. I eventually got pregnant with my son and when my son was about 2 years old, while I was napping with my Gund bear, it was stolen by my son… I couldn’t take it from him. Every time I tried it just broke his heart. Well, my son is now 4 1/2 years old and I saw him abusing my poor bear that had been with me everywhere. I took the bear from him. I went online and was lucky enough to find another one (I think it may be a tad smaller than mine) that is almost exactly the same. I am so excited about my son getting to enjoy the bear!
So this had me thinking. How ironic is it that my one comfort through everything was a teddy bear, and the being which brings me the most comfort (outside my prescribed benzos…) would also be a Bear? My Grund is not “just a bear” and my Bear is not “just a dog”.