Such is the love... for a teddy

Another piece completed for my creative writing course with Converge.

Such is the love…for a teddy

I saw them in the Garden Centre. One of the softest teddies I have ever had the pleasure of holding close. Hugging tight, my stress melted as I held those little furry creatures in my arms. Toggles they call them. I actually had no idea what it was and had to ‘Google it’.

‘Google It’ – these words have become part of everyday speech and now, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, a recognised verb. 20 years ago, no-one had ever heard of it, and now its common parlance. Like milk-shake or Slush Puppy.

‘Google’ told me it’s a bunny. I suppose at my age; I should have known. With big floppy ears, a little red hat, and a little red scarf and a patchy left eye (no idea!) its designed for the Christmas market. I have a young great niece and nephew. I imagined them hugging this beautiful furry friend on Christmas Eve, smiling for the camera. I imagined the ping as the photograph found its way to my phone taken by their nanna, my ever-exhausted younger sister. Smiles can often convey what words can’t.

I’m sure it’s the softness of the bunny making me delve into nostalgic moments that haven’t actually happened. Well, at least not yet. I’m being gently lulled into making a decision. Anyway, it worked. I bought two. And then a week later I bought another. For myself. I simply couldn’t resist. It’s beautiful cute little face, its big floppy bunny rabbit ears, button nose, simply drawing me in. Making me buy. The marketeers won that day.

I felt guilty replacing the one I’ve had for over 25 years. Bought by a lover. The relationship destined not to last. Despite the hurt, I couldn’t part with him. The teddy that is. Still can’t. He now has pride of place, sat with me at my computer. He reminds me so much of the time we shared together. The love. The intimate moments I thought would last forever. But our love was destined to fail. It said ‘I Love You’ on his little jumper. I removed the stitching the day I realised the relationship had gone the same way as many others. Carefully of course, so as not to hurt teddy. It made me feel better and eventually I moved on. To my now husband. Happy endings!

So, I wrapped up the bunnies, in the best way anyone can ever wrap up a soft, cuddly bunny. I told my sister they could open them on Christmas Eve. As youngsters, mum and dad would allow us to open up one present each before the big day. Santa came early in our house. Although not extravagantly. I always looked forward to this time the most. No idea why now. It was a family tradition and somehow brought us closer together. If only for a short while.

As a nurse I understand the importance of touch. Likewise, the touch of a soft, furry friend. And knowing the importance of touch I trained to be a Reiki Master Practitioner.

Reiki is a form of hands-on or hands-off therapy, designed to reduce stress, enhance
relaxation and promote healing. They
say Reiki finds you, and for me,
that was certainly the case. I loved the experience of being trained in the art of healing. It created a sense of
calm in my life missing at that time. I haven’t done much with it. Although I had intended to. Just something that came and went in my ever-busy life. It was just something I needed at the time.

The use of soft toys was introduced in care homes many years ago to help those with dementia. Providing great enjoyment for those with cognitive loss. Imagine not knowing who you are. Where you are and who those people are all around you, or even what they’re doing. Day in and day out creating new memories, new experiences destined not to be remembered; that you can never retrieve. Not knowing touch, but nonetheless, receiving a sense of comfort; peace and calm for an unsettled, often aggravated mind, when you hold a teddy close

There’s also something called doll therapy. Just for a moment remember the last time you held a new baby, perhaps your own, perhaps another’s, in your arms, their beautiful soft fuzzy, peach like baby skin so beautiful to touch, makes your heart melt. No one can feel stressed when they hold a new sleeping baby, not even mum. With ten tiny little fingers, and ten tiny little toes, it’s a moment anyone close to mum and the happy couple yearns to do. Of course, not every child is born perfect – but what is perfect?

Dolls and soft toys may have been needed more than ever during the pandemic when those living in residential and care homes, must have experienced loneliness, I hope never to experience. Loneliness creeps up on you. It threatens to eat away at your very soul. It leads to depression and even suicide. The government has a lot to answer for.

Much controversy surrounds the use of doll therapy. With some care homes having reported having to buy high chairs to accommodate at meal times. I didn’t know this – many of those with dementia experience ‘sundowning’ a sense of extreme confusion and anguish that predictably occurs in the evening. With many experiencing a strong need to go home, (although they are at home), pick up their children from school, or needing to make the tea. Having a doll or soft toy to focus on during the day is considered an effective way to help.

Despite the potential benefits, there are some who consider the use of soft toys or dolls babyish, demeaning and patronising. They see it as infantilising the adult. Although it’s hard to remain so negative when they see the benefits they so frequently bring.

Anyway, back to furry bunnies. Clutching this bunny, this soft, snuggly, cute, adorable, sweet, simply charming bundle of fluff in my arms reminded me of the pandas me and my sister, Carol had as young children. Those pandas went everywhere with us. Bed, toilet, bath. Mum even had to set a place for them at teatime. There was room, dad was rarely home for tea. No doubt if we weren’t hungry or if we didn’t like something, panda would eat it.

Mum had to prise them out of our hands to wash them, or wash them whilst we slept. Always had to be dry by morning though, or we would scream for panda. Its lucky we never saw. We’d have thought they were drowning and screamed even louder. Mum told us this story years later.

They lasted well, but could never truly stand the test of time. In the end they had lost all their fur, eyes gone, stitching unravelling bit by bit. Stuffing peeking out of orifices. They were worn out. Eventually, mum gently told us they had gone to that little panda heaven in the sky.

And we believed her!