More than a bear hug…
FLASHBACK TO ANOTHER LIFE, ALMOST SIX YEARS AGO
(A tribute to a stuffed toy, written about 18 months ago)
…
It was a day that seemed like any other, when a little brown bear with an orange bow was purchased from the small crowded gift shop of a hospital in Brisbane, Australia.
This was not any hospital – it was a place that specialised in heart surgery, and in one corner of that big hospital was a tiny little man who (although he didn’t know it at the time) needed some patches for his heart, and a bear to look over him. His name was Dash and he was just nine weeks old.
Dash’s mum and dad didn’t realise how important this little brown bear would be to their precious firstborn – he was just one of many bears and toys to find their way to his hospital bed from generous family members and friends who were all desperate to offer help and comfort. Despite surgery, Dash was very ill and had stopped eating and barely slept at all – no-one really knew why and his mum and dad despaired.
Then one day, they were told by a speech pathologist (who had just been to a conference about “tactile” kids): give him a soft toy, it may help him relax and get the sleep he so needs. This little brown bear just happened to be on the shelf the closest to the cot that day, and so he finally lay were he was supposed to – in bed, next to Dash.
It was like some sort of magic happened in that moment – Dash stopped scratching at the sheets in frustration, his fingers clenched onto that little brown bear once, twice, then his whole body relaxed. He slept. Dash’s mum and dad watched in wonder and sent some heartfelt thanks to God. It was, to them, a sign something good could happen.
It would be many more months – and four more surgeries – before Dash’s health problems were addressed. Each time this little brown bear sat watch over the operations (even the heart doctor knew that The Bear must be on hand to help out in his furry little way), later sitting calmly amongst dozens of drip lines and monitor wires in Intensive Care Units, then snuggling in close to his valiant owner through the rest of the hospital stays.
It gave a strange comfort to this little man’s parents, to know that in the minutes-which-seemed-like-hours they could not be there to touch him; The Bear was providing constant comfort. He was there to look out from behind, when an unfamiliar nurse or doctor began yet another examination. And when words could not offer solace to an uncomprehending ten-month-old after open-heart surgery, the furry touch of The Bear on his cheek could still the fear.
As soon as Dash could talk, “the bear” was christened – “bee-ahh” was among his very first words. The Bear’s very favourite position is tucked tightly under Dash chin, his back to Dash’s throat so busy fingers can easily find his orange ribbon, and twiddle the bow (long-undone and now frayed into a contented fringe).
His other position, when the chips are down, is face-on with Dash chewing frantically on his nose. This uncomfortable role has been stoically endured through the years, happily less often as time went by. As his little owner’s confidence has grown and the scars have faded, the bear was more likely to be found thrust – tail-first – into Dash’s mouth as he hurtled down stairs or clambers into the car for a road-trip.
In the years since he was first handed over in that children’s ward in that heart hospital, Dash’s little brown companion had grown to look a little worse for wear, but his stamina has been inspirational. He never has never flinched despite being vomited on too many times to count, recovering after each wash and tumble dry (Dash could never wait for a line dried bear!). The Bear has never held it against Dash’s parents when they referred to him as “smelly bear” during times their son was unable to part with him soon enough for such a bath, and took his name in vain during regular panicked searches for his increasingly threadbare frame. He even bravely endured his own surgeries, having his nose re-embroidered twice after a nervous little boy chewed too lovingly on it.
Many tried to find a replacement/stand-in for The Bear – to ease the panic and save the hours spent searching, each time this family is sure this little brown friend has been lost for the final time… but even a new identical bear, made by the same company, cannot replace the slightly ragged original. Dash might consider the offering carefully and even hug him for the benefit of the giver, then immediately demand to know the whereabouts of the ‘real thing.
Dash’s parents have often looked on as well-meaning relatives and friends rolled their eyes and suggested it wouldn’t matter if The Bear was lost for good – hinting that searching for hours on end for a ratty stuffed toy was not time well-spent.
But this couple know for certain that this bear will always hold a very special place in their little family. They are not normally sentimental people, but when he is no longer needed in Dash’s bed, The Bear will be put on a special shelf in whatever home they might live, and one day, they will tell Dash just what this funny furry fellow did for him (and them) so many years ago.
They often think of the bear-makers who put this little furry piece of wonderful together. They give thanks and share stories of The Bear with the friends who gave this tiny toy to their son, who understood his need to hold and hug, after witnessing their own daughter undergo a heart transplant. They are grateful to the doctors and nurses who were patient and kind and allowed The Bear to be nearby to comfort their son (and his worried, overwrought parents).
Three-and-a-half years ago, none of these people could have really known just how important one single stuffed toy would be to this little boy with an aching heart.
But the equation was really very simple…
One little brown bear = one happy Dash.
end of FLASHBACK!
…
And despite being gone for more than a year, nothing has really changed.
TONIGHT WE FOUND DASH’S BEAR… HIP HIP HOORAY!
…
PS Man, I wish I’d read this many months ago – because we HAD put the Bear somewhere safe, high on a shelf. I have no idea why… I need to go now. To check on a boy with a bear. Both sleeping peacefully. Together again…
11 Comments
Andrea
That is so sweet!! I love those photos! I am so glad Dash is okay now!!
Pencil Writer
Isn’t it amazing how a few little pieces of fabric sewn together and stuffed can much such a difference to some small child/children?
My own children–when small–had their special “lovies” that were stuffed animals.
I remember working with some of the young women of our Church to make little stuffed bears–none so cute as Dash’s–to give to the local police department. They’ve found that being able to give a young child a stuffed toy can comfort them when circumstances requiring police intervention occur. (My heart breaks to think of them and some of the horrific experiences some children face.)
So grateful for sharing the story behind the story. Blessings on the couple who provided “The Bear” for your Dash.
Isn’t God great! To provide a way–even through an inanimate object as a stuffed bear–to bless the lives of little ones when necessary? How very kind He is to succor us through the helping hands (and soft cloth paws) of others!
Thank you so much for sharing such a heart warming story. Perhaps someone else will read it who needs the guidance to step in and bless the life of another tiny human with a simple, immeasurable gift in like manner.
Tracey
Oh boy.. I’m all teary now. My three girls have all had special bears – and the eldest in particular just had to have hers. (It was a koala.. but when people asked its name, she looked at them as if they were stupid. “Teddy”. Of course.) We did the frantic searches at times – usually at bedtime when he was discovered missing. Inevitably he’d got sidetracked during one of the day’s activities and was still there. In the plastics cupboard in the kitchen. (At a friend’s place.)
So given the poignancy of Dash’s relationship with his bear, I so so understand how special this reunion was. That tactile thing with babies and either a soft toy (or a blankie, or the like) is just amazing.
Beautiful story Bush Babe!
debby
What a lovely story. Thank you for that. It’s been one of those days, and this was a nice, peaceful read.
jeanie
Oh goodness, I know this story inside and out and it still gets me in tears!
Three cheers for Bear!!!!
So this whole time, Bear has been watching Dash from the shelf, just seeing how well his little boy is going and growing up.
Bush Babe (of Granite Glen)
Hey there… just reporting in on The Bear – he is catching up on some much-needed sleep in a dust-free zone in Dash’s bed. Much talking was required to ensure he wasn’t stowed in a school backpack for show-and-tell. That bear ain’t leaving this house!!!
Andrea – thanks. Dash is a little livewire now. He has scars but mostly superficial physical ones, so we are very lucky.
PW We often give thanks to God – have to admit I’m not much of a church person (see Jeanie’s blog on church-as-punishment at boarding school and you’ll see why) but I am a believer. He was being asked some very tough questions at that stage of Dash’s life though. I really believe that SOME kids need something to hold to calm them. I hope if anyone has a highly strung kid they’ll try a bear – to have that boy SLEEP was a heavenly sight! Still is…
Tracey – you say the nicest things! Glad you liked our little fuzzy yarn…
Deb – peaceful today, goannas around the corner. Glad I got you when you needed this one…
Jeanie – my chief job in life is making you cry. God knows I howled re-writing the blessed thing last night. So its only right someone else shared the tissues! And you are tight… wonder what Bear has been thinking all this time? Probably: will this woman EVER dust???
BB
Alison
Hooray! I’m so glad bear is back!
They’ve got one heck of a history, that’s for sure.
Mary Paddock
BB–
Thank you for making me cry. 🙂 Our Daniel was four when he climbed a tree too tall for him (he was always climbing) and tumbled out out on his head. This meant a trip to the hospital in an ambulance. Daniel was panicked and crying and nothing seemed to reach him. The paramedic handed me a stuffed bear for him to hold. I made a story up about him on the spot (you know–one of those Mom–things). Daniel stopped crying almost immediately and grew still as I told the story. I handed Timmy to him and he became Daniel’s instant best friend. Timmy got us through MRIs and X-Rays and exams and several hours of waiting in the emergency room. Daniel was fine–some soft tissue damage, that was it. God had really had his hand on him that day. Timmy is still an honorary family member and Daniel–who is nearly sixteen–can still repeat the story.
A Novel Woman
Oh, honestly, that was a beautiful story, well told. I am sitting here in tears, and it’s not often that happens. Are you a professional writer? That piece is certainly good enough to be published. Thank you so much for sharing it. And those photos of Dash curled up with…oh, jeez, there I go again.
My son had a special relationship with his blankie, too. And you’re right. It calmed him right down.
Now that he’s twenty, he has rugby.
Pam AKA A Novel Woman
baby~amore'
A very sweet and amazing story of a precious boy and his bear.
I was teary reading it and I can just imagine … for different reasons.
What a day to rejoice for the return or reunion of Dash and ‘Bee ahh’
alice
This is such a special, special story. Thanks for pointing me in this direction. I have tears in my eyes.