Ladies of a Certain Age ~ for those invisible powerful, dynamic, vital women

Hi, Elizabeth,

 I have long needed to tell you that the Teddy Bear you made for me following my son’s death in 1987 has, indeed, brought me much comfort.  I took him out of his special place on a shelf in my closet and gave him a big hug the other day.

 I needed a bit of support as I cleared out the guest room to make it suitable for a guy’s long term occupation and got the garage cleaned out to accommodate a second car.  My lifestyle is about to change as my son, who suffered brain damage ten years ago, is about to move back with me after being with a relative out in California for all this time.  Although he has recovered functionality amazingly well, I have selfishly enjoyed my freedom and am working to adopt a positive attitude about the challenges he brings with him.  Teddy understood. . Thanks again, Elizabeth, for your kindness of that time so long ago.  The caring and comfort represented by Teddy has never faded.

 Fondly,

Your Friend

Note – I removed the names in this email to protect my friend’s anonymity.

I can’t describe for you the emotions I felt when I read this email I received about three weeks ago from a former colleague.  I can tell you that I was immediately taken back to that awful time when we were told at work that our peer’s son had died when the plane he was flying crashed in California while he was fighting a wildfire. Also, I can tell you that I was amazed that such a strong woman, a woman who has headed up large divisions of at least two organizations that I know of, would admit that she hugged a teddy bear.  She even admitted that she hugged a teddy bear as a lady-of-a-certain-age!

You see, 1987, was the first year I pulled my beloved large, orange stuffed-dog  down from the shelf where I kept him and gave him a huge hug.  In fact, I slept with him that night! He had been my very special toy and comforter since I was six-years-old.   I have sought his solace several times since 1987 and have never publically admitted it out of shame because I felt it was such a childish weak thing to do!

Now, here is my friend, a strong woman if ever there was one, admitting that she hugs the Teddy Bear I made for her so long ago, and that he brings her comfort now as he did back then in 1987.

Yes, I got that big orange dog down from the shelf and hugged him with all my might in 1987.  I was so damn scared – there was no one who could help me – I felt pushed against a wall.  Fortunately another peer at that organization came into my office one day and told me I looked like Hell – yes, her exact words! I was exhausted and could not defend myself when she spoke those words to me.  I broke down and cried and told her what was going on at my home.  She directed me to a 12-Step program that I believe saved my life.  I am eternally grateful to her.

That Teddy Bear I made for my friend helped me too because I learned reaching out to  another person is a great therapy for relieving piercing pain.

Since then, I have pulled that dog down from the shelf several times, finding that age has not given me a strong armor to avoid feeling the effects of the gut-wrenching difficulties of life. What I have learned is that advanced age does not negate the need for comfort and companionship.  That dog got me through tough nights at age six and at age 40, and at times in the decades that followed. Thanks, to my friend, I am not ashamed to admit today that a beloved stuffed animal is just the thing needed.