I think my teddy bear was what I woulda cherished
He was basic brown, with tan hands and feet (no real hands or feet, but stubbs, sorta)
He had a dent on the side of his plastic nose, and his ‘fur’ was a bit matted, and stuffing was coming outa his hind end, but he’d greet me at the end of my day, and we’d trade silent thoughts waaay after Dad’s rendition of the three little pigs
But
Most everthing I thought was mine pretty much disappeared around age 13 or so
Prolly ‘cause I wasn’t there much to fight for ‘em
I mean who wants to hang around folks in the getting ready to divorce mode
Anyway, not long after Mom’s passing, my brother and I went thru her stuff
And there, tucked away behind boxes of keepsakes and stuff I have no idea why anyone would keep, was the picture that hung above my bed since I can remember
It captured me ever time I looked at it
Still does, some
….and now hangs in my cabin office
It may very well be the one thing that has driven me to defend the defenseless