When I was five years old, my father had to have back surgery. He was in the hospital for a very long time. It was hard on me because my mom was gone a lot spending time at the hospital. Once my father was able to get up and move around, he went down to the gift shop at the hospital. He bought me a small bear. My mom brought me up to the hospital to visit, and my dad had the bear there waiting for me on the table. I was so excited because my father had never gave me a present unless it was Christmas or a birthday. I named the bear Bobby after my father. When my mom was gone to the the hospital, I would sit and hold my bear. We had tea parties and I took him to bed every night. Once I got older, the bear got misplaced. When I was 21 years old and packing to move out, I found the bear in a box. I was so excited to find him. He sat on my bed everyday after that until my son Bobby took an interest in him. Today, my youngest son, Brayden, gets upset that the bear's name isn't Brayden. I am glad that I still have him. It gives me a time to remember when my dad took a special interest in my feelings.
Last updated: 07 March 2007
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