Well... Today finds me doing reconstructive/surgical repair to Lydia's ratty, tattered old bear. It's flattened from little arms clutching it, breaking open at the seams from being loved, and it's fabric is so soft and smooth I forget what it originally looked like. Now, some may say let it go! She is, afterall, almost four. Some may think I'm crazy to put a little more stuffing in it, stitch up the gaping holes, and even attempt to give it some new eyes. But... This mom is too much of a softie to heed that advice. Yes, it would be easier to just let the thing fall apart completely... but, without much consideration I've realized simply: I can't do that. I'll admit, I just don't have it in me to let this bear wither away like that.
You see, this bear has slept with Lydia every night except one since she was ten months old. It was a gift from her Granmda H. and once she took a liking to it, she never let it far from her sight. She clutched it as she learned to walk, held it as she toddled around on usnturdy legs. She's reached for it whenever she's sad, kept it under her arm when she's been sick.
At one point, "Bear" went everywhere she did. To Grandma's, to the store, to church even. And more than once we've had to turn back and retrieve it when it's been left behind. Eventually we had to get past that stage and she learned that Bear couldn't always be dragged along. And she was okay with that- as long as she could still have it when she snuggled into bed at night.
Well, lately Bear has been looking rather sad. Two nights ago when I was tucking her in she said, "Mom, maybe you could wash bear and sew him up tomorrow." And because she said it so sweetly, and because she was clutching it so tightly, and becuase I know she loves this old bear... I knew I would.
And so here I am. Sewing the seams tight, stiching a smile back on it's face, giving it some new fluff... And feeling like this could be the most important thing I've done all week.