Boris The Bear Tells Himself A Story

In the window at home there’s a sweet little bear,

slightly tattered, not torn, but missing some hair.

He sits kind of floppy, and propped with a view,

watching and waiting and thinking of you.

A bear you can see by his worn looking face

that’s been treasured and favored

with his own special place.

Loved from the beginning,

he’s been very well fed

on the dreams of girl

and all the things in her head.

He’s enjoyed the all pleasures of years

two, three, four, five, and soon six,

he’s her favorite he knows,

the one she always picks.

But today is somehow different,

someone’s taken his place,

it’s that silly old Pooh Bear who’s crowding his space.

Beside his dear girl as she goes for the day

he wonders what they’re up to

missing her greatly

in his bear sort of way.

Growing up can be scary for a bear on his own

he’s been a faithful companion and rarely alone.

He sits and he watches and wishes she’d phone.

‘ I am here and I miss you,’ is just what he’d say,

‘ Will you be home soon, are you on your way? ‘

He knows it’s silly to be sad and so blue

as her little girl heart can love much more

than a old bear or two.

One day when she’s older

with hair that’s gone grey

she’ll have trouble remembering

things like his name,

when she got him,

or the games that they played.

He’s heard all the stories

from bears on the street

when the children aren’t looking

and they’ve a moment to speak.

They whisper in passing

of changes to come,

but for now he’s still Boris,

and her number one.

Yesterday after a long day out, I noticed Jersey Girl’s favorite bear Boris sitting in the window. He’d been left there in the morning by JG posed on the window ledge so that he could see outside while she was out exploring with us. I was lucky to see him when I did managing to get two quick shots before she grabbed him up to join us at the table for dinner. She didn’t know I was outside taking pictures and in the second photograph, you can just make out her ear and the side of her face as she is reaching for him.

I began the little bear story this morning and what came out has as much to do with my relationship with an old stuffed bunny from my childhood as it does with Jersey Girl and Boris, her bear. This is one of the things I love most about writing, you begin a story thinking it is about one thing and suddenly another story begins to reveal itself along the way.

I would be interested to know if you remember a favorite toy or stuffed animal and can you remember its name ?

Estrogen Overload

For part of last week and much of this one, my husband John found himself surrounded by a houseful of feminine energy. Did he shirk from it … not at all. In fact, I’m not sure I have ever seen him look as content as he did over the last week with both of his daughters and his granddaughter here for the Easter holiday. I snapped this photo quickly from a distance peeking over a bed of flowers while trying to hide behind the tree to the left. I wanted to catch the interaction without being observed, but John caught sight of me just as I clicked the shutter. I am not sure what was happening here, but I think John looks pleasantly overwhelmed by whatever the conversation was at the time.

This was the first time since our wedding that we were all together again and it was good to see them interacting without the stress of our wedding and first time meetings. While I had met his older daughter prior to the wedding, I did not have an opportunity to meet his younger daughter and granddaughter until a few days before.

I really enjoyed the chance to spend more time with them and to ask questions about their childhood to see what they remembered about their dad and the memories they shared growing up. It was interesting to be reminded how different a shared memory can be based on the individual experience.

Speaking of shared experience, our first visitor from America is coming over early next month … can you guess who it might be? Need a hint to narrow the field … our American visitor shares something in common with me besides estrogen.