It all began with "Pinky (I)". My first Teddy was given to me on the day I was born. It was love at first sight. I took Pinky with me everywhere, and in most of the photos of me as a baby and then as a toddler, there was Pinky. My family told me of a story of when I was very young, (as I do not recall it), that once we went on a boat ride, and as usual, I had Pinky with me. And on that fateful day the boat crashed. It must have been a minor one, but it was enough for Pinky to fly out of my hands and sink into the water. I couldn't stop crying and my parents assured me they would do everything possible to get Pinky back. Sure enough my parents presented me with my 'rescued' Pinky, and I was a happy girl once again. Although I didn't realise it then, what they had actually given me was Pinky II. Many years later when they assumed I was out of the soft toy phase, they told me that they couldn't rescue Pinky from the water, and my beloved Pinky was actually a new Teddy. I was crushed.
As I ventured along the path to adulthood and my tastes slowly matured, the one thing that didn't change was my love of bears. When I was studying for the HSC, Pinky II sat proudly on my desk, watching with pride as "mum" threw herself into her studies. By this stage my love affair with Teddy's, which was now referred to as a Hobby, the adult way of allowing yourself to continue indulging in childhood, was known to all and on my 18th birthday they appeared in numerous presents.
It was then I thought it might be time to take this a little further and I looked into collectable bears, and I worked and saved to buy a few. As the years passed, my collection grew, and then I met Hubby. Whilst Hubby and I settled into our second home together, and as I began to unpack my bears, I had a sudden realisation that a bear collection in our home may look childish. Also as I flipped through my home lifestyle magazines, as I often did, no Teddy's were ever to be seen. When the call came to move up to The Coast all of my bears, remaining packed in their boxes, were placed in storage.
Upon moving into our new home, Hubby and I have slowly been working our way through the last handful of unpacked boxes. Stashed in a spare room's closet sat the huge boxes of my bears. We have been working on building a 'mini' library with some new bookshelves, and as I stacked the shelves I felt it looked a little too impersonal. It was then I remembered the bears and thought it was the perfect time to pull them out. I decided I would only put a few out on display just to add a bit of personality to the library. I starting working through one box. Each bear was lovingly wrapped in tissue paper having been packed away with utmost of care. And as I looked at the bears, I asked myself how could I choose? I thought, no, I must be strong, I have so many that they must go. But as I picked up one bear and then another and then another, I realised that they each had a story to tell. Every bear I had reminded me of a place, a time, a beautiful memory. How could I toss that away?
I pulled Hubby over to the bears and showed him, and with my best effort at 'Puppy dog eyes' asked "Can we keep them?". He smiled and said what I wanted to hear. "Yes". But we both agreed that we would make a feature of them and show them off in a display cabinet, neat and tidy, and in a very mature way. That way when people come to visit I can show them off, tell them a story, and for those very special people I can point out the lovely gift they gave me and just how special it is.
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