Promise Me You’ll Always Remember

I stood there. Hands outstretched, holding the body of a lifeless creature. Its eyes held my gaze. A dead abyss of nothingness. Eyes so black they were able to pierce my soul, infiltrating every corner and crevice of my body; devouring my very being. And why not let it? After all, it is not up to me to decide who gets to see the light of day and who experiences the dreaded unwanted death of a loved one.

Months earlier, I had finally heard the eight words I had been waiting to hear for almost a year. My parents sat me down and told me “You are going to have a baby brother!” I was the happiest three year old ever. I had always wanted a little brother and I was determined to give him the world. One day me and my mom were at the TD Canada Trust Bank and a cute little stuffed teddy bear caught my eye. It was adorable. It was just sitting there with its four little legs positioned just like that of an eager dog awaiting to greet his master, calling my name. It was covered with fluffy frizzy fur, as white as a lamb and as soft as silk. The bottom of its paws as well as the insides if its ears had a shiny light brown coat of fur. It had a cute button nose that was a darker brown and around its neck was a small scarf-like sash, matching the colour of its ears and paws, tied neatly in a bow. I ran up to it, picked it up, looked into its tiny black eyes, and then, I hugged it. I brought it near my pounding chest and caressed it with a gentleness that I had never demonstrated before. The teddy bear seemed to cuddle me back, burrowing its head into my arm. Then, the child in me awakened and I excitedly ran back to my mom all the while holding the little teddy bear. “Mommy! I need you to buy this. Please! Please! Please! I want to give it to my brother when he is born! I want this to be his first gift.”

I stood there still. I could feel its deep black eyes searching every inch of my soul, almost as if it knew something about me that I did not. I could sense it laughing inside, mocking me, taunting me right to my face. Yet, no one would believe me if I said so considering its innocent appearance. I despise this dark sinister creature. How could something that once made me so happy become something I now hate and never want to see again?

Finally, the day had arrived! I pranced into the hospital with eagerness embracing the little teddy bear I had previously bought my baby brother. From infancy, for reasons I could never understand, I hated hospitals. I thought it had to do with the clinical smell that is always lingering within its walls. However, today, it was my favorite place. I was going to meet my little brother! I was going to meet Marcus. I was going to give him the teddy bear. He was going to love it. I was sure of it. Searching frantically for the hospital room that my mom was in, I noticed my dad trailing behind. “Hurry up Daddy! He’s right over here!” Pushing the door open with all my strength, I entered the room running; I stopped dead in my tracks. He was so cute. He was unmoving, cradled in my mom's loving arms and he had his tiny fragile little fingers wrapped around my mom's index finger. He was perfect. She saw me and called me over. I ran to them. I asked if I could finally give him the teddy bear I had bought him. I eagerly placed the white ball of fluff on his little abdomen. Then, I also, with the same gentleness I had caressed the teddy bear with, placed my finger on his hand. I felt his tiny little hand full of warmth and life wrap around my index finger. What I did not understand was why my mom was crying. I had heard of these things called tears of joy. Maybe, she was happy too.

Still I was standing, almost entirely immobilized by the gaze of this dark creature, slowly starting to lower its lifeless body into a rectangular shaped box. It had a rough dark russet colouring all around the outside, with two handles on each side that appeared to be faded gold. Yet, the inside seemed oddly peaceful. It was cushiony; purely white. Untarnished. Bloodless. Yet, full of blood. It seemed to embrace its only content like a mother would cradle a beloved child near her bosom. I viciously tore my gaze away from the black beady eyes of the once loved teddy bear as I gently, but this time hesitantly place the white ball of fluff on his little abdomen for the last time.

Now I understood. I understood why. Why my mom was crying that day in the hospital. They were not tears of joy.

A few years had passed. The pain of losing a loved one slowly diminishing, yet all the while hovering over me at all times. Every time. Every time I saw a teddy bear it was as if its beady eyes once again held my gaze so as to distract me as it drove a knife into my gut, slowly turning it until I couldn’t breathe.

Winnie the Pooh has ever since been my favorite Disney character but now he is an object of comfort for me. I’ve realized that it’s okay to feel pain when someone you love passes away. In the beginning, there will be objects that will remind you of them that you cannot bear to see. However, as time passes, the pain lessens and you will wake up one day realizing that you don’t mind having those same things around you. Rather you treasure them, just as you treasured your loved one.