My Bear

I dread having to make this confession.  It is my deep dark secret.  So here it is.

I sleep with a bear at night.

I do not remember when I got him, my Bear.  All I know is that I do not remember a time without him. He has been there for me to cry to, to snuggle and to offer me stability when the world felt like it was crashing in around me.  He is an original Care Bear, Friend Bear, and he is no longer the lovely peach color he was when he came to me.  His fur is matted and mostly white now.  His little wisp of hair that used to be fluffy is now a messy clump.  His tail is falling off due to my rubbing it as a child.  (I may still rub that tail in moments of desperate need of calm)

Bear has had knee surgery with me.  He had his wisdom teeth pulled with me.  We had our ribs removed together.  I have no doubt that he would have come to the hospital with me to deliver Superboy if I had had any chance to pack a bag before that child made his surprise entrance to the world.

The only time I have not slept with Bear at my side is immediately after Superboy's arrival.  I had a terrible nightmare that Bear was Superboy and that I smothered him by rolling over on him while sleeping.  It was horrifying and Bear was relegated to my nightstand until I felt comfortable enough to try sleeping with him again.  He sat patiently as a sentry until I was ready to come back to him.

Superman asked me long ago if I would share Bear with Superboy.  I have to admit that I hesitated before I answered in the affirmative.  I think it would thrill me if Superboy wanted to snuggle Bear but I know I would miss him every night.

Bear is my safe place.  He is the friend I have had forever.