Every bear that I make has a story. Not all, but most of the bears are memories of someone who passed away after living a long and quantitative life. Will and Andrew, two very little boys, won’t have the opportunity to create memories with their father. He died in October 2015 in a vehicle accident. No words can bring justice to this sweet family for Will, Andrew and their mother.
Kyle died many years ago. Janet gave Kyle’s daughter this bear that I made from his camouflage hunting jacket.
Janet wrote, “When I saw Jessica and gave the bear to her I asked if she recognized it. She looked at it for a second and said “This is Dad’s camouflage jacket, you made a bear out of it?” She was already crying by this time and me too of course, and she just hugged me. I cannot think of a better thing for her to keep her Dad close to her than this bear that she loves so much. I was unsure at first how she would react because the jacket itself didn’t mean that much hung in a closet, but you brought life back to it for her.”
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Mr. Croft died about 20 years ago but someone who loved him hung onto his shirts all these years. He was a farmer and left his legacy and his name that is synonymous with Citrus County, FL.
As children brothers Justin and Tyler found comfort in their blankets at home, in daycare and on vacations.
The ABC blanket was made by Justin’s grandmother when he was about 3 years old. It was well loved and worn. Last year his new puppy decided it tasted good and chewed a huge hole in the middle of the blanket. There was enough left over to make a bear.
Last year Justin became a daddy at age 23. I was able to make a ‘baby’ bear from the remains of the ABC blanket.
Tyler (now 21) decided he didn’t need the bottle anymore when he was 10 months old but he picked up his light green thermal blanket. When he was 4 years old one day Mommy accidentally set it too close to a lit candle and it caught fire. Tyler decided right then, “Mommy, I a big boy now and I don’t need it anymore.” He thought it had been thrown away but Mommy had stored it in a safe place.
John’s daughter Katherine writes:
“My father John was a Boston Police Officer for over 32 years. He served and protected everyone proudly and humbly. The various police districts used to have a Sunday Morning Softball league. For many years in my early teens I went with my dad to every Sunday morning game. My father was the catcher but he was so much more for the team. He was the motivator and moving force of getting those guys to play every year. The roster of players changed here and there over the years but everyone one of those guys loved my dad and respected him greatly. The younger players all wanted to be the type of cop my father was. At these games I was the score keeper, collector of dues and mascot of the team. It was a time that was just me and my dad on the rides to and from the games. One of the reasons why I have sentimentally held onto this jacket for so many years.
My father always had a solution to any type of problem and he has a great way of making things simple. My father was a very generous man and never wanted to be acknowledged for anything he did. My father will always be my hero and my inspiration.
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When I was a little girl, one of my dad’s and my games evolved around his bedtime. My dad worked the night shift as a Boston police officer so he would sleep during the daytime. Right before he would go upstairs I would race to my parents’ bedroom and hide behind his pillows. My dad would always act surprised when he found me. And we would laugh together. Even as I grew to adulthood my dad would occasionally ask if I’d like to go hide behind the pillows before he went to bed for the night. As an adult I will always remember his wisdom over the years that I might not have appreciated as much in my youth. I’ll remember his infectious laughter and the pure delight he took when I laughed at his remarks or jokes. His face always lit up with his love he had for his family.
My father passed away on February 21, 2009 at home and on his own terms. He showed bravery and strength until the end and still had some words of wisdom for us all.
I am most proud to say this one thing of all that he was. He was and will always be my daddy.”
That’s what is written on the Tee-shirt. Robert collects VWs. He especially has a heart for the outcast, broken, disheveled and forgotten VWs. Robert is a part of a VW group and loves the fellowship and camaraderie he finds as he travels in his restored beetle to different weekend camps around the south. This is Robert’s bear from a tee-shirt he bought at one of the VWs roundup.
I cut this bear out years ago from a wool sweater vest. I hand embroidered it at least five years ago leaving it in pieces in a zip lock bag. This past Christmas I put the bear together for a Christmas exchange game. I use variegated yarn so a stem may be purple and a blossom green. The bear is tiny, so tiny I had to sew the neck to the body by hand. I use thin fishing line for hand sewing I do on a bear. The only open seam I need to close is on the back. It is through there I stuff the head and the body of the bear. If it is a feminine bear I embroider the back seam.
Grief, there is no on and off button. Time, it plays no favorites. Peggy lost two very dear friends in 2015. They died within week’s of each other. Peggy sent two blouses, one that had belonged to each of the ladies.