An inch from death

I have a teddy bear that I have loved for about 29 years now. I will admit that he still sleeps next to my bed and honestly if I've had a hard day, he sleeps with me. My mom tells the story that a dust devil came through near our home and carried away bear. She had to got fish him out of a lake, but that's what it would have taken for me to be happy. Bear (yes, that's his name) was a central being in my life. As a kid, I wouldn't go to bed without him. And even when I got older and no longer had to have him to sleep, I still liked knowing he was near. He's gone through so many changes in the last 29 years. He's lost one ear. One arm is considerably shorter then it started and the other barely hangs on. He has a crusty lipstick smile that I added to his face when I was about 8. Where once he was soft and fluffy, he's now lost all his fur. You can see right through his tummy to the yellow stuffing underneath. He's really a sad sight to see, but I still love this bear. Now from my description of my well loved bear, you may be thinking that the title of this post, "An inch from death" is referring to the teddy bear, but it is not. In deed, my son, Alex, was just inches from death this afternoon. I was trying to settle Alex down for quiet time when the phone rang. I finished my conversation within a few minutes and when I came back into my room, there sat Bear, with a bunch of his stuffing pulled from the tear in his arm that I've been meaning to fix. Oh, Alex doesn't have a clue how mad I was. Honestly I do love my son more then Bear, but Alex and I had a very stern conversation about how if he ever even touched Bear again, he wouldn't be able to sit down for a week. I managed to get the stuffing all back into him, but it looks like the assault on his arm may force me to shorten it to a stump. Poor Bear.

This is one of my favorite poems, and sadly enough it describes what my bear has been through.

Oh, Teddy Bear

Oh, Teddy Bear, dear Teddy,
though you're gone these many years,
I recall with deep affection
how I nibbled on your ears,
I can hardly keep from smiling,
and my heart beats fast and glows,
when I think about the morning
that I twisted off your nose.

Teddy Bear, you didn't whimper,
Teddy Bear, you didn't pout,
when I reached in with my fingers
and tore your tummy out,
and you didn't even mumble
or emit the faintest cries,
when I pulled your little paws off,
when I bit your button eyes.

Yes, you sat beside me calmly,
and you didn't once protest,
when I ripped apart the stuffing
that was packed inside your chest,
and you didn't seem to notice
when I yanked out all your hair-
it's been ages since I've seen you,
but I miss you Teddy Bear.

From The New Kid on the Block, published by Greenwillow, 1984.