Autumn of '89 began like any other. Summer was quickly coming to a close as winter crept in. Like most years, the family was anxiously anticipating sharing the holidays together.
Although each year became a bit more difficult due to the miles that kept us physically apart, in our hearts we remained close. What I have always cherished most about time with my family is the laughter and the enjoyment of easy things.
Amazingly, even that which we appreciate we often take for granted. Without realizing it, I took for granted that my mum and father, in their early sixties in '89, would be nearby for years to come. Years that in a moment seemed to be ripped from my reality.
It was late on a Monday night in September of that year when I got the dreaded call. "If you want to see your father alive, you must come quickly." Those words rang in my head as I carelessly tossed cloths into a bag. My thinking was such that a tattered grocery bag would suffice as my luggage.
My thinking was also such that rather than immediately get on the road, I felt compelled to bake my father his beloved cookies. Although I had been told he was in a coma as a consequent of a heavy cardiac arrest, I was convinced my cookies would be the magic formula to bring him around.
As I drove late into the night, memories of long ago danced in my head. Memories of times shared with my father who, although a pillar in my life, now lay lifeless in a hospital bed. Glancing oftentimes at the plate of cookies that were settled thought about on the seat behind me, I tearfully wondered if I would ever see my father alive again.
The shock of seeing my father hooked up to countless monitors and machines was almost beyond belief. And yet, what my sisters and I quickly realized was the devastation my mum was experiencing. The three of us wondered if our parents would have the opening to celebrate their 40th anniversary together.
With no safe bet convert over the next few days, my sisters, mum and I found ease in each others arms. Strangely, we also found ease by bringing each other cuddly stuffed animals. Within days, my mother's range of teddy bears grew and grew.
It was as if each bear held a extra meaning to her and brought what little ease could be experienced as she diligently watched her husband lay in his own world of a coma.
After weeks of praying for the near impossible, my father slowly began to accumulate consciousness. Knowing a miracle had taken place, for the next few months we were thrilled at each baby step my father took in his recovery.
Having to endure heavy heart surgical operation to repair some of the damage, my father kept a few close companions near his bedside as he recouped from his wounds. The very teddy bears my mum found ease in while my father was on his "vacation" were the bears he now found ease in.
As I get ready for the holiday season this year, I wonder how much of an impact my father's heart strike and all the experiences that went with it had on my decision to fulfill a lifelong dream.
For years, I had a private desire to open a teddy bear store so I could share the feelings teddy bears had given me when I went straight through a very painful divorce. A feeling of ease that somehow only the "right" bear can bring. The same type of ease teddy bears brought to my mother, my father, my sisters and me in the autumn of '89. The same type of ease I now have the opening to share with others on a daily basis.
With my father's contact now years behind, I am once again anticipating sharing a holiday season with my mum and father who are soon going to be celebrating 57 years of marriage. Often my folks come to visit me during the holidays, as it is a very busy time of year. What with all the gift wrapping for the many people who come from all over the country to contact the unique teddy bear store that was once only a dream.
I have learned life is about having the courage to live our dreams. It is in the willingness to do what we are destined to do we have the opening to bring comfort, joy, laughter and love to the lives of others.
If the only episode I learned during the autumn of '89 is how high-priced life is, I will forever be grateful. It is because of that episode I am gifted with the opening to often help plump just the right teddy bear for man who is in need of comfort. Other times, it is to plump a bear that is meant to bring joy, or express love, or gratitude, or just because.... Because teddy bears make the world a little good one bear at a time.
Cardiac Surgery:comfort Comes From Unexpected Places
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