My ex-boyfriend gave me a toy bear that held a bouquet in one paw and a box in the other. He knew how I felt about these dust collectors. I said he’d have rather bought me burgers than this rubbish. We broke up, it’s been 3 years. My nephew’s playing with this bear and says, “Why…”…“does this bear look like it’s waiting for someone who never came back?” His innocent words hung in the air longer than they should have. I laughed at first, brushing it off as a child’s wild imagination, but the comment followed me into the kitchen as I made lunch for us. I hadn’t thought about that bear in years; it had survived a move, a spring-cleaning purge, and a dozen half-hearted attempts to donate old things. Somehow, despite my dismissal of it,…CONTINUE READING IN BELOW
The Bear on the Shelf and the Memories It Held
Pages: 1 2
