August 3, 2012 by Erin

An Aside

Each night, I go to bed with a 1’4” stuffed bear called Howard. He may appear to be a little stiff, but he fits perfectly in the crook of my arm and is actually rather snuggly. One of his ears is a little smaller than the other, which makes him look just a trifle mischievous, I think. He’s settled into a quiet, dignified look as he’s grown older, his only real sign of age being a small discolored spot on his left ankle. Over the last twenty-some-odd years, a tight bond has formed between Howard and me. Truth be told, I can’t sleep without him.

One day earlier this year, we were pretty certain a tornado was going to hit town. My office is just about the safest place in the county, so I ran home to throw a few things in a bag (just in case) before I took shelter. As I stuffed one last pair of socks in and zipped by backpack, Howard just sat on the bed, staring at me. “I can’t take you,” I said. “You won’t fit in here, and what will my coworkers think if I walk in with a teddy bear? Try to understand.” Howard said nothing. I looked at the ceiling. Scanned the room, decided to take my Coptic cross off the wall. Tried not to look anywhere near Howard’s spot. But I couldn’t stop thinking of him, swirling around helpless in a twister. I just couldn’t leave him. “Ok, yes, I love you. I won’t leave you. Just promise not to draw attention to yourself,” I told him, as I threw out a pair of shoes to make room for him in my backpack. Who needs shoes anyway? Bent double as he was, I think he smiled at me as I zipped him in.

The tornado never came, but the whole experience only brought Howard and me closer. Danger will do that, you know. But here’s the thing: I’m 25 years old. What will happen when one day, fingers-crossed, I get married? I know this places me irrefutably in the pathetic category, but I’m actually kind of anxious about the whole thing. Realistically, I know Howard will have to go. Even I can’t look my future husband in the face and tell him he’ll have to get used to having a teddy bear in the bed. But then where will Howard go? And what will take his place in the crook of my arm? (Please don’t answer with, “your husband, of course.” Unless he can stay completely still and wants his arm squeezed to a pulp, he won’t quite do in this particular role.)

But, until then, Howard will stay the only man in my life. Always faithful, always snuggly, I really couldn’t ask for much more. Posting this may kill any shot I had at a date anyway.