Part 1
The girl was experiencing her smoothie of feelings again, probably for the tenth time that weekend. Smoothie feelings is the best way she could describe the delight of frollicking through snow with her dad on a mountain at 10,000 feet, blended with the frequent reminders that the next quality time with him wouldn’t be for another eight months.
It was early April 2009 and the girl plus her mother and brother were visiting her dad where he worked in Grand Junction, Colorado, as a concrete mixer driver. Driving a mixer was his passion, and the girl loved that about him. When she was little, her father would flip a 5-gallon bucket upside down to make a seat for her next to him in the cab of the mixer. She wished the moment would last forever as he played 90s rock on cassette tapes and bounced with the road on his shock-absorbing seat. But that was when he worked in California and came home every night. The girl would be waiting on the driveway, riding her scooter in circles until he appeared around the corner of the street, parked, and ran to her with arms outstretched to throw her up in the air.
Then the recession hit and there was suddenly no more work pouring concrete in California.
The girl remembers the morning in March 2008 when her dad woke up at 3 a.m., started the old sputtering coffee maker, put on his boots and gave her a kiss on the head before he climbed up into his 13-ton mixer with his Jeep Wrangler in tow and drove east for 15 hours. He stopped just short of the Rockies and started the first 9 month stretch of many.
The girl squeezed her eyes shut until she was back in the present moment. The roaring sound of the Jeep putting miles behind it permeated the space her family occupied and almost drowned out the Cranberries album her dad was blasting on CD. The girl held her purple teddy bear closer and spoke into his fabric ear, “Isn't this fun? Don't worry, it's just a new adventure!”
It wasn't the first time she had brought Teddy along on a family trip and provided him with reassurances that might have reciprocally served as encouragement for herself. Teddy had been her trusted companion since her first day of life when her mother and father brought the girl home from the hospital in 1998. Teddy was placed in the girl’s crib and ever since then, she never went a night’s sleep without his little purple presence. This was true whether it meant leaving room at the top of her carry-on backpack for his floppy body to sit with his head sticking out of the zipper at the airport, or shamelessly toting him to sleepovers where her friends didn't even bother making fun of the Teddy's presence any more because it became clearly non-negotiable that the two were a package deal. The girl and Teddy were kindred spirits. She had always been a sensitive child who felt big emotions about the world, and Teddy’s dark, round eyes would look back at the girl knowingly as if he could perceive her tangled thoughts and soothe them with understanding.
The girl and Teddy’s strong bond as emotional confidants kept them inseparable for the past decade. She sometimes wondered how Teddy came to exist in the world. Her best theory was that Harold from her favorite children’s book drew Teddy into existence with his magic purple crayon to keep himself company in the white void that was his lonely blank page existence. Once Harold’s world flourished from his elaborate creations, he didn't really need Teddy anymore. So, somehow the authors who pull the strings of the universe outside of Harold’s book extracted Teddy from the pages and placed him in the girl’s possession. The girl sometimes imagined Teddy’s previous life with Harold on the empty pages of their narrative and pondered how it felt to watch his companion illustrate a custom kingdom around them.
The girl and her brother were bundled up in three layers of warm clothes. A heavy comforter from their father’s cabin sealed in their warmth against the bitter cold. Their father lived in the cabin on a mountain with three other mixer drivers. The girl referred to these large, bearded men as her father’s “work guys.” They had deep rough voices and big bellies, unlike her dad who was long, thin and had a gentle but brave demeanor. The girl thought it was amusing that her father and his work guys all lived together, like they were on a never ending sleepover. When she asked her dad if it was fun, he said no but it was cheap and his housemates served as a good line of defense from the (real) bears on the mountain.
“Mister, pay attention!” Gripping the door handle, the girl's mother took deep breaths as the Jeep hurdled down the icy road. The girl’s mom was known to be something called a “backseat driver,” but she wondered how that worked if her mom always sat shotgun. On this particular night though, her mother’s frequent verbal contributions to the driving process were warranted. The dad was transporting his family through a dark, 20-degree Sunday night to drop them off at the closest airport, which felt excruciatingly far away in the relentless storm that had inconveniently arrived that afternoon. He was maximizing the weekend with his family before work started again early the next day. The mom caught the girl’s curious eyes in the rearview mirror and relaxed her vice grip on the door handle to reach back and lovingly touch her daughter’s face. “Next time we are in cold weather together, it will be Christmas and dad will be home with us eating cookies and playing Frank Sinatra in the living room.”
The girl’s older brother watched the road ahead of them and periodically looked over with a small, reassuring smile. Everyone regarded the girl’s brother as an “old soul,” but ever since their dad left to work most of the year out of state, the brother assumed an even more mature and dependable presence in her life. He never misbehaved and never hurt his little sister physically or emotionally, unlike the ruthless sibling rivalries she heard about from her friends at school. He never once teased the girl about her kinship with Teddy or tried to spitefully maim the innocent creature in the coals of the fireplace (like her father’s brother did to their younger sister’s cherished doll back in the 1970s). The girl aspired to have her brother’s character. She recognized the invaluable benefit his wise and stable nature added to their family’s lives.
Even though the girl’s face was icy in the back seat while she watched snow whip around in the wind outside of the blurry soft top Jeep window, she didn’t mind because her whole family was together.
Eventually, the Jeep arrived safely at the airport after spinning out twice on the highway (which somehow did not phase the girl’s father despite it being a harrowing experience for the rest of them). The family and their luggage poured out onto the curb. They all laughed about their clown car appearance, with giant bodies and hair teased into nests from the strong wind that laughed its way through the Jeep’s soft canvas “cover.” They all hugged each other tightly and the girl didn’t even try to stop her tears from drenching her dad’s sweater as she pressed her face into his arm. She wanted to ask him for his sweater so that she could bring a piece of him home to help her get through the next 8 months of incompleteness, but she knew her dad would be freezing on the way home if she did. Instead, she thought for a moment before buckling Teddy into the back seat under the comforter and pretended it was herself joining the father on the ride back to his cabin.
Part 2
That next Sunday morning, the girl sprang out of bed and ran to the home phone, where she excitedly punched in her dad’s cell phone number and listened to the two rings before he picked up. “Morning times!” the dad shouted through the phone. The girl beamed at the silly expression he had said for as long as she and her brother could remember. She asked him about his week at work and told him about her week at school. Her mom emerged from the bedroom and echoed the same joyful “morning times!” to the girl. Her dad heard the mother’s voice and asked the girl if her mother missed him already. The girl looked over at her mom realizing she made too much coffee again and responded, “can’t live with you and can't live without you.”
Before hanging up, the girl asked her dad if he found Teddy in the back of the Jeep when he got home and if Teddy was enjoying himself in Colorado. The dad got silent. After a few moments she heard his long inhale over the receiver and the earth-shattering words “Lovie, it was the sweetest thing for you to leave Teddy with me. I was so excited to bring him to work but I accidentally misplaced him and I don’t have him any more. You are incredibly generous to trust me with him and I’m so sorry I couldn't keep him safe.” The girl’s brows collided together and her shoulders sank forward. Huge tears broke through the dams of her eyes and she folded over in sobs at the unthinkable news. How could this be true? She had never experienced life without Teddy and the first time she parted with him he was removed from her life immediately? The shock and pain of this information washed over her again and she crumpled to the floor. She could hear her dad’s small muffled voice that was now speaking into her mother’s ear asking her to get something and repeating “I’m so sorry. Please tell her I will make it better.”
The girl’s mother hugged her tightly and spoke gently, “Dad didn't mean to lose Teddy. I’m so sorry my love.” She handed off the role of consoling the girl with the girl’s brother, who was now upstairs and had been updated on the tragedy. The mother left the living room and quickly returned with something familiar. She placed it on the girl’s lap and put the phone back in the girl’s hand. The girl brought the phone to her ear and loudly blew her nose into the tissue her brother handed her. “Nice one, I bet the neighbors heard that!” her dad spoke through the phone. The girl cracked a smile and was distracted for a moment by the unfailing humor her dad provided. “Lovie, look what mom brought you,” she looked down at her lap and realized it was the sweater he was wearing all weekend. “I know nothing will ever replace Teddy, but you can wear my sweater whenever you are missing him and remember that you're not alone,” her dad said slowly. “I’m really so sorry, please forgive me.”
Part 3
The girl grew older. After a few years, she stopped crying when she had to say goodbye to her dad at the end of winter when his time at home expired. Her smoothie of feelings evolved from the plain fear he wouldn’t come home to a more complex admiration for the sacrifice of time and comfort that he made for his family every year.
That early fear she had when she was younger originated after he returned from his first year working out of state. She overheard her parents at Christmas debriefing about what he experienced. She was only partially listening until her dad mentioned how another driver rolled his truck off the side of a road because the ground gave out. Since the driver’s mixer was fully loaded, the weight of the drum tipped the whole rig over and toppled down the edge of the adjacent hill. Her parents' voices got lower at this part of the story and the girl didn’t hear what happened after. She was always too afraid to ask.
But year after year, the girl’s dad always came home at the end of the season. From late March to early December he worked tirelessly to haul the liquid bones of buildings from the plant to job sites and back again. He worked 12+ hour days from Monday to Saturday, then exercised for an hour on Sunday mornings before finally relaxing with his novels from the local library, boiling eggs for the impending week of breakfasts, and settling down for an early dinner of defrosted Marie Callender's chicken pot pie with a simple salad he ate out of an empty cottage cheese container.
Then, “as soon as the road got too icy to safely haul concrete” (which is a timeline her parents often didn’t agree on), her dad finally put his mixer into hibernation for the winter and made the drive back to California in his trusty Jeep. After the long journey he would settle in with his family to enjoy a series of delicious homemade dinners and desserts crafted by the girl’s mother. He would inhale his nutritious bounty while he joked with the girl and her brother about how his right foot was going to get stuck in the plantar flexion position after driving for 15 hours. The girl’s mother tried (and failed) to convince her husband to retrofit his Jeep with cruise control. He eventually agreed to the expense after almost 10 years of travel, after which he exclaimed “This is a luxury! Why didn't we do this sooner?”
As this life cycle became more normal for the girl’s family while she navigated through school and eventually college, one day she realized it had been years since her last nightmare about the driver who tipped over.
Part 4
The girl became an adult. She followed in Harold’s footsteps of creativity and became the director of an outdoor art therapy program for children. Every week was magical. She and her little crew of artists would meet up at a different location in nature and express their feelings on canvas or another medium. It warmed her heart how kids who were deemed disruptive or reclusive could immerse themselves into their masterpieces and interact respectfully and excitedly with their fellow budding artists. She smiled with pure joy when the parents, social workers, and foster families would arrive to pick up their kiddoes. They always expressed delight about the behavioral progress their children were making as their walls and refrigerators bloomed with art.
On this particular day, they were collecting litter at the beach to turn into mosaics. The woman asked the children what they thought about the activity, and one boy responded, “most people feel sad about trash, but I think if we take our time and put lots of love into it, we can make something really beautiful out of it.” This boy had just moved to town and was new to the group. He was usually very quiet and didn’t interact much, but he was always focused on his art and very good at sharing tools and materials with the other children. The woman found it curious that the boy never took off his backpack, but she understood that we all have our quirks and never asked him to remove it.
Later that day when it was time for pickup, the boy’s mother arrived and thanked the woman for another day of fun. The boy ran to his mother and showed her his contribution to the group mosaic. He had added a purple spiral that looked like a galaxy amidst the other bright pieces of plastic. His mother hugged him and told him he did a wonderful job. The woman noticed the boy’s backpack was unzipped and there was something fuzzy sticking out. She reached to push it back into the backpack before zipping it closed for him, but was overcome with a wave of nostalgia. The texture of the object was strikingly familiar. The boy turned around and noticed the woman’s uncharacteristically shocked face, which was usually calm and composed.
“That’s my Teddy. He is my best friend and I bring him everywhere. Do you want to hold him?” the boy asked the woman in a quiet voice. “I would love to, thank you,” she responded. He pulled the purple bear out of his backpack and his mother’s eyes raised in amazement.
“That is so kind of you to introduce Teddy to your teacher, sweetie,” his mother remarked. The woman held the bear in her arms and could hardly believe what was happening. “Where did you get this bear?” she asked the boy’s mother.
“Well, it’s an odd story, but when I was a child my mother worked a lot, mostly cleaning motel rooms. She wasn’t home very much because of her work, but when she was with us she never failed to make my siblings and me feel loved. One night she was finishing her shift at a motel when she saw a man check in. He was wearing just a t-shirt, jeans and boots, and carrying a purple stuffed bear. My mom asked him what he was doing without a coat in the frigid storm. ‘Me? What about this crazy bear who doesn’t even have pants on!’ the man joked without hesitation. My mother laughed and went home for the night.”
The boy’s mother continued with her story. “My mom returned the next morning for an early shift. She was turning over her first room when she noticed a fuzzy purple foot sticking out from under a pillow. She pulled the pillow aside and saw the purple teddy bear from the night before, gazing up at her with his dark round eyes. ‘What are you doing here, sir?’ she asked the bear. My mother asked the motel manager to call the man who had stayed there the night before and inform him about his forgotten friend. The manager said the man did not leave a phone number. ‘This little creature must be important to him. Can you call his credit card company?’ my mom urged. ‘Nope. The guy paid with cash and was out of here at 4 a.m. this morning. He seemed to be in a rush,’ the manager shrugged. ‘You can throw it away or take it home - doesn’t matter to me.’”
At this point, the art director was having a hard time keeping her jaw closed. Was this really happening? She looked down and could see the boy was also entranced by this story. Perhaps it was the first time he had heard it, too. The boy’s mother continued:
“I was a small and sensitive child who had a hard time making friends. I often felt lonely at school and would talk to imaginary friends in the evening while I cooked dinner for my siblings. My mother came home that evening after her typical double shift holding something behind her back. ‘I have something special for you, mija!’ My mother handed me the furry purple bear she was hiding behind her back. ‘This little guy got left behind at work. I think he needs a friend to go on adventures with. Will you look after him until we find his real home?’ my mother asked. I nodded my head eagerly and hugged the bear tightly. She gave me a hug and I vowed to myself I would strive to love the bear even half as much as my mom loved me.”
“We never found his real home, so he has been adventuring with me ever since then. I obviously grew up and formed a community of human friends, but this little guy has never been forgotten about. When I went back to work a few years ago after maternity leave, my son developed a strong bond with the bear, and the rest is history. You know, this is the first time I’ve seen him introduce the bear to someone else. You two must be kindred spirits,” the mother said softly.
The art director had tears in her eyes. She took a deep breath and said, “thank you so much for sharing this story with me. I’m sorry I’m so flustered, this story is just remarkably reminiscent of a memory from my childhood. May I ask where you grew up?”
“Colorado. But we moved here to California a few months ago. The winters are far less brutal!” the mother replied.
Part 5
The art director stepped into her childhood home. She was wearing the sweater her father gave her many years ago. It had various stains and rips, but was as warm and cozy as ever. “Morning times!” she sang into the house. It was Sunday morning and she didn’t hear a response. She continued through the house and saw her parents sitting in the backyard having coffee. “Hi you two,” she said as she hugged each of them. They caught up on life and she shared funny stories about the kids at work. She showed them photos of the kiddoes’ recent masterpieces. Then, she put her bag on her lap.
“Dad, I have something for you, but you’re not going to believe it.” she said slowly. She pulled the purple teddy bear out of her bag and placed him on her dad’s lap. Her father looked confused, and then stunned. Her mother gasped.
The art director smiled and wiped her eyes. “Looks like Teddy was safe this whole time. And not only that, but he’s been having the time of his life. I can’t wait to tell you about all of the adventures this dude has been on,” she said. “But first, tell me why in the world you brought him into a motel that night back in Colorado!”
The girl’s father finally spoke after much convincing that what he was observing was reality, “Well, after I dropped you all off at the airport that night, the weather got even worse. I could barely see in front of me on the road and I could hear your mom’s voice in my head commanding me to stop driving. I pulled off the highway as soon as I saw a sign for a Motel 6.”
He continued, “There was no way I was making it home in that storm, and it was friggin’ cold, so I checked in for the night to get some sleep. When I turned around to grab my wallet I saw this guy’s purple face staring up at me from the backseat. I couldn’t believe you left him behind, but something told me I needed to take him with me. I grabbed the little dude and tucked him into the warm bed. I set my alarm for 3:30 a.m. so that I could make it back to Grand Junction and get my mixer loaded for a 7 a.m. haul. It wasn’t until I was back in my mixer the next day thinking about the fun times we had that weekend when I said, ‘Oh shit,’ and called your mother.”
The art director’s mother chimed in, “He was a mess… I don’t think I’d ever heard him so freaked out before. I told him to call the motel right away and ask about Teddy.” Her husband spoke up again, “I couldn’t fathom what I would tell you when the motel manager said, ‘sorry bud, that thing is likely sittin’ on top of a landfill by now.’ My spirit sank and I mourned that little bear all week. Telling you the news was heartbreaking. I never forgave myself for losing Teddy.”
The art director took her parents’ hands and shook her head in disbelief. She said, “Dad, I forgave you immediately. There are no words to explain how grateful I am to you and mom for being such amazing parents.” She took her phone out again and showed them a photo of the boy from her art therapy program posing with his mom, who was holding Teddy up. “You left Teddy in that motel so that the authors of our lives could place them in the hands of these people. Teddy had completed his chapter being my best friend, and thanks to you he was able to join Violet and her son Marco on all of their life adventures.”
Teddy’s furry body leaned against the father’s chest with his eyes gazing up at all three of them.
The father looked up after he realized something. “So, why is he in my lap now? Did you steal him back from that sweet little boy!?”
“Oh my goodness dad, of course not!” She responded, rolling her eyes and laughing. “After Violet told me her story, I tried to give Teddy back to Marco but he wouldn’t take him. He looked at me and said, ‘I’m all done with Teddy now. I think it’s time for him to go back to his family. Please give him to your dad, Miss Mae.’ I pleaded with him to keep Teddy, saying he was his rightful owner, but the wise little sage told me he felt it was ‘destiny’ for Teddy to go home.”
Mae and her parents sat in silence for a few minutes processing the ultimate synchronicity the universe had unfolded in their lives. Teddy stared off into the sky, likely reminiscing on the many lives he had lived with all of his brave companions.
“How do you feel about all of this, Mae?” the mother asked her daughter after some time.
Mae took a deep breath. “I feel complete,” She closed her eyes and placed her hand on her abdomen, imagining the life her own child would illustrate alongside the little purple bear. “But somehow I know Teddy is already gearing up for his next big adventure.”
