by R. B. Chandler
(Arcosanti, AZ)
My Teddy
What can I say about Teddy? Where do I begin? Teddy and I go way back, roughly 61 years to be more exact. He was a child's first bear, my bear, and as my mother tells it, it was love at first sight. For the first few years of my life Teddy was just a stuffed animal I played with as all small young children do, I suppose. It is hard to say when our relationship changed.
Life wasn't always easy for me going up. I was far too young to understand what a divorce was, or what it meant. In any case, I acquired the stepfather and really wonderful grandfather to go with him. Then came the move to Idaho where I lived life as a normal six-year-old child in a small town. Made a fort and the neighbor’s garage ceiling, tried to build a go cart with my grandfathers self-propelled lawnmower, played flashlight tag at night (the antique version of laser tag), and all the while Teddy was just there on the bed. Then came the move to Florida, and along with it a change that no child should have to go through.
At first, the abuse was subtle and undefined. Slavery comes in all forms and my life as a child slowly ceased to exist. Looking back it is hard to pinpoint exactly when the abuse became physical, but by then Teddy had become something more than just a stuffed animal. He was my best friend and confidant; he was the one I poured my heart and soul out to late at night. Teddy was the
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