We have a family member in need of surgery. Time to open the fix-a-bear workshop as I take on the task of repairing a stuffed bear.
This guy isn’t one of the beloved trio. He usually sits at the top of the stairs, watching the antics going on in the living room below. Since he’s pretty much out of sight, it took a while for me to notice that he’d met with some sort of unfortunate accident. Although my son barely notices this bear at all, he’s actually quite special to me.
First Christmas Presents
When my son’s first Christmas came around, my mother went on an online shopping spree. In her excitement to shower her new grandson with gifts, she bought toys and games, clothing, sporting equipment, and more. Then, just before Thanksgiving, she went into the hospital. She died on Christmas Eve.
Just before we lost her, I unpacked all those Amazon boxes full of gifts from the grandmother my son would never know and wrapped them for him to open.
Repairing a Stuffed Bear, Remembering My Mom
Now I sit here repairing a stuffed bear that my mom bought but never saw. I don’t sew very well, but my grandmother, who was quite a seamstress, taught me a few stitches. Although, on my first attempt at embroidery, I sewed the design I was working on to my bedspread. My technique has improved somewhat.
After collecting his loose stuffing and finding a matching thread color in my sewing kit, I set to work. Pinch the seam together, pull the needle through, work my way down. I think my grandmother would be proud. My mom would thank me in the bear’s voice.
Honestly, I like fixing things when I can. I sew on buttons, repair ripped seams, glue broken pieces back onto things, replace missing screws. Repairing something instead of throwing it away gives me a feeling of accomplishment. Besides, this little bear reminds me of my mom. I needed to fix him.
All in all, I’d call this effort at repairing a stuffed bear a success.