A bear...

It's a bear. A freaking bear...

But it's what the bear represents. 

That hug and kiss my mum gave the bear  the day she bought it for me on Christmas Day 2010. Those many moments the bear spent by her bed side, by my bed side, at her death bed. He was there. He lived and went through it all, with mum, with me, with my family. 

A stuffed animal he may be, and you can scoff at me at grown man nearing thirty clinging onto an inaminate creature of comfort and made of cotton and thread. But go through the ordeal of fightin against cancer, experience the pain of slowly  losing someone, then you will understand how every little thing, even inanimate little thing that cannot talk or laugh or cry or hug you back, is a symbol of hope, is a piece of a memory of a loved one you wish to preserve and hold forever and forever.

But there is no forever, is there? There is loss, and we will all lose our most beloved and dear possessions and loved ones. Nothing is ever mine, nothing is ever ours. They just come to this world and spend time with us temporarily, and then they must part with us. Or we must part with them...