Ever since August 10th, 2007, I have had my little blue bear by my side. He has protected me from the terrors and fears the arrive in the nighttime, listened to and taken my worries from me, and traveled across the world from camp to Poland.
I got blue bear, also know as Grammy Honey Bear, during my last visit to my grandmother before she passed. I held her hand as she lied impossibly still, sleeping her way to peace, unknown to me in a coma. As an eight year old standing no more than four feet tall, staring eye level to this frightening, vulnerable being that I knew was my grandmother was, to say the least, unsettling. Anyways, I swallowed away my fear and stood little next to her, breathing in the same air she did. I grabbed her big, oversized induced hand and squeezed it, not feeling anything back. I took a deep breath, and leaned in close to her, whispering into her ear "i love you and miss you." Those were the last words I said to Grammy Honey.
I am not sure what was so special about my little blue bear. I guess he stood out from the rest of the stuffed animals for many reasons. His perfectly tied bow tied, now torn and frayed, with polka dots all in a line, reminded me of Grandma's perfect black hair that she swore wasn't a wig. Maybe it was his overly sweetness; his perfectly stitched white little eyes and triangle brown nose. He was almost as sweet as Grammy Honey's supply of Orange Peach Mango Juice. Whatever it was, I needed him. And he needed me.
As I gave him his first snuggle at the counter of the hospital gift shop, a breath of mine went straight into his little stuffing heart, and with it the soul of my Grandmother. That night I hugged that little bear so hard that I swear his non existent nerves could feel me. He comforted me as I fell asleep while, unknown to me, the same time my grandmother was floating up from her hospital bed.
I am not sure where Blue Bear went. My roommates swore that they saw me place him into my suitcase before we left the Kibbutz, but when I opened it he was no longer there. My mom thinks it could have been her angel, walking off to go to live in Israel, making aliyah. I think she knows I am ready to take life on alone; i am ready to move on, heal, and begin my life once again. Although I am sad to lose my little blue bear, and my direct connection to my grandmother, I am excited for her new journey.
