Brown Bear

December 29, 2010
By Anonymous

I think that you could begin the story of my life with a bear. A small, disheveled brown stuffed bear. Before I was born, my mother bought this small bear for me. I, later on, dubbed him the most clever thing I could come up with: Brown Bear.

His soft, slightly curly fur would stick out in random spots, but I loved that darn thing. He wore a onesie; it was a cream color that had worn with age, and it had small balloons, and rocking horses, and other childlike things printed on it in gentle pinks and tender sky blues. He was terribly faded, but my love was unwavering. His small coal eyes were filled with reassurance and warmth, and sat above his little nose that was perched upon his infinite smile.

I don't really know why I loved that little bear so much. He was tattered, and old, and had been constantly tossed around in boxes, and dropped from extreme heights. But he never seemed to mind. That welcoming grin that was forever etched into his face always stared at me with the utmost respect. No matter what, he was there. Smiling at me, and reminding me that I was loved.

Unfortunately for Brown Bear, I grew up. My long braided hair had been cut off into a bob, and my thick cotton night gown was traded in for loose sweat pants that read "CHEER" on the back, and tight t-shirts. I sold off my toys for an iPod, and I dumped my Barbie 'laptop' for a Mac. Training bras, and boys, and friends, and fitting in stole away into my life. And with every new and more 'grown up' experience, my childhood loves were pushed farther and farther away.

However, Brown Bear was still there. Yes, our tea party time had been drastically cut back, but on occasion I would be in need of the little guy. Nights spent cuddling up with him, and secretly sharing my inner most thoughts were not completely lost.

Soon, though, it just wasn't the same. The more I grew up, the more I would forget about Brown Bear. My friends would come over, and I would make sure that he was out of sight. And after a while, I just didn't care.

"Hey, you remember that little teddy bear you used to have?"

"Oh yeah! What ever happened to that thing?"

That, sadly, was what had come to Brown Bear. A nonchalant recognition of his existence once in a great while. Today, I don't know where he is. Or if I even still have him.

After moving so many times, the importance of things drops, and his had plummeted into the depths of my forgotten past. And you know what? It sucks.

I can't even tell you how much I wish I knew where all of my things were from my childhood. Especially Brown Bear. I wish I could go back in time and squeeze the life out of him in a tight hug, or whisper that everything would be okay to him, and that he shouldn't worry, even though I was the one scared out of my mind from the ominous shadow in the corner.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." A quote I think that everyone can relate with sometime in their life. I can relate to it most when I think of my innocence, something I crave to have again. The sweet naivety of the world that used to consume my mind is now only present in wistful sighs for the past.

So yes. I think you could definitely start my life story with a bear. Brown Bear, the symbol of my innocence of being a child. The thing that we all take for granted, until it's gone.

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