Your Bear is Personal

At first glance, one might think that I run a business of making stuffed bears for customers. Yes, a bear is ordered, created and shipped (the cost is $45.00 plus $10.00 shipping and handling). That sure sounds commercial, doesn’t it?

Here’s where commercial bites the dust. The bears I create are made from the clothing of a spouse, child, parent or another loved one in a family. The bear is requested by a family member because their loved one has passed away.

When a loved one dies, the family is left with earthly reminders that they were here: a favorite shirt, a dress, or other item of clothing. This clothing becomes the material that a bear is created from. These are the memories that become their memory bear; a bear they can hold and hug while they remember.

When a family member makes the decision to have a memory bear made, I speak to them personally on the phone in order to understand their wishes and their loss. This is where the creation of a memory bear becomes personal to me. You see, I have the honor of helping a family cope with their loss.

With each death, there is the pain of separation and loss. I want the family to know that their loved one’s clothing and memory is treated with respect. I call to let the family know when I have received the clothing and I call them when their memory bear is shipped. Often, the initial and on-going conversations are a chance for the family member to talk about their grief and pain. Your memory bear is personal.

5 responses to “Your Bear is Personal

  1. What an amazing idea! Thank you so much for visiting my blog! 🙂

  2. Beautiful caring ministry.

  3. What a sweet ministry! may the Lord bless you and your ministry.

  4. This feels very much like a Personal Mission to help others. Not commercial at all.

  5. This is so strange to me because I once had this idea to do this but did not know how to begin…this was probably 20 years ago. I am so glad that you are doing this for the families!
    They are lovely in way that could make one sad.

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.