Recenly I saw the "30 Days" thing going around on Facebook. Whilst I did not participate, many of my friends did, as well as my sister.  One of her daily pictures was of her stuffed ape named Ricky.  She has had him since she was very little, I can't remember precisely how old. He is ratty and worn, and I am sure smells a great deal!! LOL  But he was her best friend throughout her childhood. Yes she had "real" friends, those of flesh and blood. But Ricky was always there just when she needed someone to talk to and cuddle with.   Well, I too had a stuffed friend of the same nature.  A friend that sat patiently on my bed all day long and greeted me when I got home.  A friend that always listened and never criticized.  A friend that always knew just when I needed a hug and cuddle. And a friend that protected me from the monsters in the closet and my nightmares created by my over active imagination.  I don't remember exactly how old I was when I got him, though I do remember exactly when I got him.  He was a birthday present from my father whome was stationed far away at the time, Germany I believe.  It had to have been my 6th or 7th birthday because I remember my sister being old enough to walk and talk, perhaps it was a bit later but I know I was not older than 10.  

I remember at first thinking I was too old for stuffed animals, and that I was much more interested in the jewerly box and other such gifts.  But secretly I could not wait to get this bear in blue overalls home, when my family and friends would not see me gush over such a wonderful present.  I had to act more mature, not sure exactly why, but nonetheless it was necessary.  Why do we as kids think this is an important act?  To act more grown up around our friends and older family members, to try to grow up fast than we really should.  Looking back now, I wish I had enjoyed my youth-fullness longer, but don't we all? 

Back to my friend. As I grew and began my own family, I moved many times.  Along my journey in life treasures and trinkets from my chilldhood have been lost, broken, stolen and forgotten about.  But somehow and in someway a few friends and cherished belongings have remained with me.  Things I made a point of saving, enduring the torment of being laughed at and poked fun at.  Maybe it is a girl thing, maybe it is just that certain people connect to things more than other people do.  Usually boys hang onto things such as sports equipment and memorbilia like baseball cards. These things tend to grow in value throughout the years, so to have held onto them turns out financially great!  Some people hold onto what others view as junk, these people get called names like "hoarders" and "pack-rats"  Yep, that was me, my mom very often called me the latter, a "PACK-RAT!".  I held on to everything!  Papers, and pictures and even odd bits of trash.  I tend to still do this, but have been steadily working hard to get rid of things I really don't need after all.  Then there is Mr. Bear D.  (That was the name I ended up giving to my stuffed bear with the blue overalls on.)  He has stayed with me throughout all these years.  He has survived all the "clean outs" and yard sales, the trash heaps and any other attempts by my family or myself to clean out the clutter.  I always managed to save him.  He was not going anywhere!!!

My middle daughter inherited Mr. Bear D a few years ago.  She was amazed when I told her the story of his life, and our life together.  How intertwined it has been. How I almost lost him once or twice, but found him again and saved him. How he has moved more times, and more miles than most people.  She loves him.  She loves him as much as I did when I got him, and even still do.  I explained to her that he is the world's best secret keeper, and that he will never tell anyone when she has herself a good cry for NO reason at all.  That he will faithfully wait for her to get home from wherever life takes her, and that he will always have a shoulder to cry on when there IS a reason to cry.  He is the best friend anyone can ask for, and he is the most trustworthy friend ever made.  

What brought all this on is two days ago my daughter brought Mr. Bear D to me and told me there was an emergency.  His leg was hanging nearly off his body, barely held by a thread.  I was in the middle preparing dinner, and told her to put him on the couch I would fix him in a bit.  She put him in a weird place and he was out of sight so I forgot.  She asked me about him later that night and it was much too late.  I told her I would get to him the next day.  Yesterday I was so stressed out over some school work that was due, I completely forgot, again.  I felt so bad when it was time for the kids to go to bed, and my daughter said she was so tired, that she didn't sleep the night before and wouldn't sleep again that night.  When I asked her why, she said that Mr. Bear D protects her and keeps the bad dreams away and that I hadn't fixed him yet, I cried.  I felt sooo horrible.  HOW could I have forgotten.  She said she had a substitute but it just wasn't the same, and asked me to please fix him today.     I just got done fixing his leg.  As I sat there with this ratty and worn old bear on my lap I remember how I felt as a kid with him in my arms.  I remember how safe this stuffed bear in blue overall could make me feel and started to tear up again.  I know how my baby girl feels and will never make her wait for him again!!  I am also so overwhelmed by the feelings of thinking about my daughter and I sharing such a wonderful thing.  

Just wanted to share with everyone!