My first Christmas was spent in the rental unit my parents had in Centerline, Michigan. We lived there until the spring of 1950 when we moved to Royal Oak. I received a teddy bear from my dad on that first Christmas, and several months later, my mom took my bear and me to a photographer for a formal portrait. While I don’t recall the sitting, I still have a copy of the portrait and the bear.
When my three children were born, I bought a brown bear for David, a shaggy haired blonde for Elizabeth, and Winnie the Poo’s twin brother for Michael. They each received their bear on their first Christmas morning. I took my dad’s initial purchase of a teddy bear and made it a family tradition.
When Brady and Eva were born, I bought a bear for each of them on their first Christmas too. Brady’s was a white polar bear. I bought a huge pink bear for Eva.
Brady’s became his sidekick for much of his life. Brady took B everywhere.
Eva didn’t become as attached to her pink bear, but I kept the tradition going with her none-the-less.
Elizabeth was with Brady the morning he opened B. We captured the moment in a family photo. If Brady and B ever had a formal portrait taken, I’ve not seen it. The moment is more important than the circumstances.
When Ruth and I visited young Jackson James in early December, we celebrated Christmas with him and our California kids. It wasn’t the grand exposé that Ruth and I celebrated with our three when they were young. It was a time of sharing, and the opportunity to pass along the Christmas bear tradition with Jackson. I always value the time and opportunity to be with them no matter the date. Jackson’s bear is brown like mine and super soft with bear sized hands and feet.
Elizabeth joined Jackson when we shot the photo of him and his bear. The picture wasn’t taken to duplicate the one taken sixteen years prior, but it turned out to do just that. The boys are both handsome with similar hairlines. Their Aunt BZ is just as pretty today as the day we welcomed B to the fold.
I’m sure my dad didn’t consider he might be establishing a Christmas tradition when he bought my bear seventy-five years ago. But he did.
I’m happy I’ve continued the tradition with my grandchildren and hope they have the opportunity to do the same someday.