A Bear’s Story

 Bear’s Story
(Fran’s Story, Too)
By: Fran

When I was 11, I received a teddy bear as a gift. Inside the brown bear was a music box that played a sweet lullaby. Mary and I shared the same bedroom; our beds were not too far apart. There were plenty of nights when we couldn't fall asleep.

I enjoyed hearing the sounds of music coming from this bear so much so, that I would make that little bear play and play until off to sleep I went. All the while, I would cuddle the soft creature in my arms. Of course, Mary being one year older took every opportunity to let me know how childish this was of me; but nothing would stop me from playing that soothing music. Every night, night after night, I would make that little bear sing to me... and every night, poor Mary would complain. One night, I pretended to be asleep. When that brown bear ran out of music, who do you think came over to my bed to make the bear play his music? Yep, my dear sister, Mary, that's who. I sprang up in bed and said, "Got Ya!" She confessed that every night when I fell asleep first, she would come over and make my bear play the calming music for her.

Growing Up

I grew up, of course, and somehow that little brown bear was the only possession from my past that I managed to hold on to throughout the years. I didn’t plan it that way; it was just one of those things.

A few years ago, Mary was visiting with me when she shared that her day was not going well. (My dear sister had many days that did not go well.) She explained how she didn’t have any good memories from her childhood. My thoughts immediately went to “our” little brown bear. Just as fast as my feet could carry me, I ran up the stairs and into the bedroom I dashed. I swear that bear was smiling at me as if he knew my plans. I put him behind my back, and down the stairs I flew. Mary was still in shock. (She hadn’t seen me move that fast in years!) My smile went from ear to ear, but I could feel my eyes swell with tears as I put the little guy in her arms. She took one look at him and in an instant; I saw a sweet recognition of happiness I hadn’t seen in years. Immediately, Mary collapsed into my waiting arms, in tears. Giving her my bear graced her with a happy memory. Recalling it now, brings me peace of mind and a great sense of comfort. Being able to share it today is a kin to closure.

The little brown bear went home to live with Mary that day. I didn’t know then that he would come back to me again so soon. Although he lived with Mary for short three years, he served a greater purpose. Now, I treasure him even more.

Too Much Too Fast

And now, it’s I who needs to call to mind a happy memory as I try to cope.

Although my life was never really in my control, that fact was forcefully awakened in me. You see, my mother died in August of 2001. Then, 22 days later, the brutal images and nightmarish horrors of 9/11 were realized. Then for me, the ultimate wake-up call came a short eighteen days later when my sweet Mary died. So much death and sadness in too short a period of time; I didn’t think that I would survive with my “self” intact. Naturally, my thoughts couldn’t help but turn to my dear brother, Joe, whose sweet goodnight was five years earlier, at the tender age of 46. With the exception of Joe, I didn’t have time to recover from one dreadful event before the other, unmercifully unfolded.

For the longest time, I couldn’t regain my sense of security. I felt, “off center”. When the phone would ring, I jumped. When it rang in the dead of night, I swear I stopped breathing. All of this was exasperated by feeling that I had no one with whom to share my darkest thoughts. After all, who would want to talk about death and dying?

However, now, my perspective has changed and I pray it will continue to transform as I go on with my healing journey. (It’s just that some moments in time, those caught between breaths of air, are a little harder than others.) I guess life wasn’t meant for the weak of heart or the faint in spirit but, I guess that’s why God made angels, put them here on earth, and cleverly disguised them as friends.

Finding Ways

We all have to find a way to heal from pain. Whether that pain is from a physical source or the loss of a loved one; healing is essential to our continued growth. When we suffer we stop developing spiritually, physically, emotionally - in every aspect of our lives. The people around us suffer as well. I grieve for my lost sister every day. I still sometimes feel as if I am yelling into a crowded room, yet no one hears me. When someone we love passes away, how much of ourselves goes with him or her and how much should we allow to be taken away?

The Journey Back

I believe that, more often then not, we hold the tools within to start the journey back to a more meaningful and fulfilling life. Yes, even a life without loved ones. But first we must feel and then we must express our pain. Although I’m still struggling with loss, I’m using every ounce of fight inside me to hold on, and now, I smile more than I cry. We must try to remember to keep our loved ones close to us, our hearts pure, love with all we have, and never allow a precious moment to go unnoticed. It is in that spirit that I share my thoughts with you. It’s my hope that deep down most of us know what helps us during our greatest times of need. For those of you who don’t and for those can’t reach inside of yourself, I offer you my continued hope for a better tomorrow.


I never want your spirits to feel the ache of tears shed from yesterday’s winds, today’s stillness, or tomorrow’s haunts. I only want you to know the joy of a loved one’s touch, the warmth of a hug, or the sweet surrender of a tender kiss. When your day ends with the perfect sunset resting on a moonlit glow, I wish the stars to sing for you a melody of peace and harmony. When all is nigh, and rest has come, may your dreams be fulfilled, including your childhood wishes.

Healing

My bear’s old story was about two little sisters trying to find stillness so they could fall asleep. Today’s message involves the healing of memories, finding a deeper love, and letting go of pain.

A sister’s love is forever, but a little brown teddy bear will always be here waiting for his music box to be played once more.

I have moved from the nightmare of Mary’s loss into a different reality that I am comfortable calling "a new me." And our bear has a place of honor next to my computer, so he visits with me daily. Glancing at him, I am reminded of Mary's sweet smile along with her contagious laugh. I will always miss Mary, but rest assured, she will be, for forever and a day, my sister.

In Loving Memory of My Beloved Sister, Mary Maurer
April 5, 1954 - September 29, 2001