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...
Meet our resident hussy. 
This is Jet. He is Cruel's Toy Boy.
They like to play coy...
But really, they're in looooovveee... 
They like me, these two love birds. But they both adore SSB - they have little contests to see who loves him most. They follow him and watch him and stalk him. Cruel usually wins. She's utterly devoted to SSB. (I know the feeling, Cruel.) 
This is Cruel. She is up the duff, as they say in the classics.
A little horse and little man amongst big horses, big people and lots of dust... 
OK TLW, you can have a go. I've got the buck out of him!
This, friends, is a 
Really, really still.
It was love at first sight.
Hello little horse, my name is Dash...
Wish us luck... and lots of Thelwell moments!
Do you love mine Mum?
