Skip to main content

Featured

A Rose for Sharon

    For many years now, I have posted the single pink rose image to my social media on August 19th and June 4th. Those who know me well know it is in honor of my little sister, Sharon, who died in 1994. Her birth date and her death date. That has been the extent of my communication about my sister or her life since. Thirty-two years is a long time to hold onto words. I have considered writing about her. It doesn't matter how deep my feelings are for her or how much I cherish her memory, the words don't come easily, if at all. Words feel cheap and wrong. It's hard to even describe why. Maybe it is because she was our family's: Our sister, our cousin, our niece, our daughter. We knew her best, so no one else should have the right to know about her like we did. Maybe that's why I hold onto my words. But I realize that if I don't tell her story, who will?  I have spent hour upon hour researching my long-gone ancestors, yet I haven't written about my own sister. ...

GENEALOGY CHALLENGE 2021 - Childhood Heirloom


GENEALOGY CHALLENGE 2021

Childhood Heirloom - January 19th entry of a 31-day challenge to post a document, photo or artifact on social media every day in January.  

by Nancy Gilbride Casey


"Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.” 

—Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit

The beloved children's tale quote captures the sentiments of most anyone who has loved a toy in their life, be it a rabbit, a Skin Horse, or a teddy bear. Few comforts compared to the warm softness of a cherished furry friend when one was feeling scared or lonely. So few friends could keep a secret and conspire on adventures, without breathing a word to anyone.

This patchy, worn, often-mended teddy bear—aptly named Teddy—belonged to my father-in-law Jim Casey, Sr. He recalls it being given to him as a very young child, likely by his Casey grandparents when his family lived in Muskogee, Oklahoma in the early 1940s.

"I do remember it was a constant companion. I slept with it and remember carrying it around by its hand wherever we went. I don't ever remember having an attachment to a blanket like some, but I do remember the teddy bear being a must."

Jim Casey, Sr., sleeping with Teddy at his grandparents' home in California, 1947.

Teddy, today.

I wonder what sort of shenanigans Dad and Teddy got up to together. I picture my father-in-law as a young sprout, walking along the country road with the bear dangling from his hand, taking Teddy on adventures.

"...I do remember being quite upset when one of the arms tore loose, probably from my carrying it by that arm for so long."

As with most toys and as with most children, the bear eventually fell out of favor as he grew: "...when I started to school at six...I stopped carrying it around constantly, probably because I was developing friendships and being occupied with them."

But Teddy was always there for him. 
 
"I remember keeping it in my room, always propping it up on my pillow when I made my bed and always cherished it as a source of comfort and security, which is why I never relinquished it."
 
Teddy now resides with our family, a cherished heirloom of a long-ago childhood, and a promise of adventures and solace for a future generation.
 
Teddy bear sits in Jim Casey, Sr.'s wooden rocker.

 
NEXT UP: Obituary

Comments