Big Bear, The Bear That’s Almost as Old as Me

Posted on February 21, 2025

I don’t remember when Big Bear came into my life. There is video evidence for where memory fails. My parents filmed a lot of my earliest years. Perhaps because they knew I would not remember them.

The teddy bear in that video appears several shades darker than the one I know now. This could easily be a quirk of the video quality, but I like to joke that many years and much love are what wore the color away. Big Bear didn’t stand the test of time unweathered, after all. The fuzz on his nose is long gone, and many years ago an aunt had to stitch the outlines of his paws back onto his feet. Yet other than that, he remains amazingly intact.

That first video of me with him is when I received him as a gift from my uncle, whom I would not meet until I was an adult many years later. But he sent me that bear when I was a little girl, probably with no more thought other than that young children like teddy bears. I was not an exception. Even as an adult, I’m still not.

I don’t think Big Bear was special to me at first. I had many other stuffed toys, most with equally uncreative names. I played favorites, of course, but I do not think Big Bear was always a favorite.

According to hazy memories, my bond with him began when I decided to take him to elementary school show and tell. Maybe at the time, I thought he was an impressively sized bear, and worth sharing for that reason alone. I still have an enduring image in my mind of his head poking out of the top of my backpack when I carried him to school.

I found Big Bear to be a comforting presence when I brought him to school that day, and over time I began favoring him as my most prized stuffed toy more and more. I often wanted to bring him to school when I could, which was indulged to a limited extent as long as he wasn’t a distraction. I started sleeping with him in my bed, believing that he was protecting me from the scary monsters I feared at night.

Once I got to middle school, it was getting less socially acceptable for me to carry a giant stuffed bear around with me. But Big Bear still had his opportunities to support me. I was a frequent visitor to the school guidance counselor throughout middle school. The man even ended up invited to my Bat Mitzvah! Making the journey into adolescence is hard for anyone, and being an autistic girl certainly didn’t help. Big Bear eventually found a new home in that guidance counselor’s office, to help comfort me during my many visits. I remember how a friend and I missed the bus on the last day of school when I realized I’d almost neglected to collect Big Bear to take him home for the summer. I was pretty upset about that, since most of the time I didn’t get to ride the bus home (I usually waited for my parents at an after-school program, the interminable stretch of time until I was picked up a frequent bane of my existence).

Once I hit high school, Big Bear being a mainstay of my educational career quickly faded to a thing of the past. Of course, I still found any excuse to bring him in that I could. There weren’t many excuses to bring a teddy bear to high school, but I didn’t let that stop me! I had already come to see Big Bear as a lifelong companion by then.

That’s something that hasn’t wavered since. Adulthood was no place to leave teddy bears behind, not for me. Big Bear followed me to college, where he looked dashing dressed up in a Temple University scarf and hat I bought just for him. He made the move dutifully to every dorm room and apartment. The only thing that prevented me from taking him with me during study abroad (or any of my other stints overseas) was that he’s far too big of a bear to justify squeezing into a suitcase! He stays with my aunts when I’m away for various reasons, but most recently to save him from a little cat who loves to drool all over him when the mood strikes her. I could never justify leaving him defenseless!

Big Bear has seen me through most of my life. I sleep with him in bed every night because he still brings me comfort. All these years, it’s this stuffed toy that gives me some extra security to sleep soundly. I’ve learned I sleep best with someone else in the room, but even when I have no one else I’ll always have Big Bear.

When we’re adults it’s considered a little strange to still be attached to a stuffed toy. Maybe not as much as it used to be; I’ve seen corners of the internet where people of any age celebrate their vast plushie collections. Squishmallows are currently a booming business that isn’t just propped up by kids. Still, I think if you asked the average person on the street what they think of an adult woman who still sleeps with her beloved teddy bear, their answers might not be kind.

I’m not ashamed of what Big Bear means to me though. He’s been an anchor point throughout my life. Something that hasn’t changed even as I’ve gone through countless changes myself. That’s comforting. It’s a harbor in the storm of life, connecting present me to my past.

Don’t let people make you feel bad for the things you choose to pour your love into. It’s your love to give, to objects as much as to people. Don’t let them embarrass you over what you find comfort in. The things that give us happiness only have to make sense to us.

This is the story of my life as it is entwined with the story of a teddy bear. A gift from long ago, still giving to this day. It’s also the story of how adulthood doesn’t mean growing out of everything. As long as they still bring joy, some childhood treasures are evergreen.