Photo by Norma Thatcher

The first bear was created not to mark a memory but rather in joyous anticipation of a baby.

 Always the thoughtful one, seamstress extraordinaire Nancy Caldwell made custom crib sheets and a teddy bear in matching print as a gift for a friend who was adopting a baby.

 Later, someone asked Nancy if she could make a teddy bear using clothing from a loved one who had recently died. Since Nancy already had the bear pattern from making the baby gift, it was easy to say yes.

 And that is how Nancy’s Memory Bear project, still going strong, was launched.

 Although Nancy occasionally takes orders from paying clients, the majority of her bears are done free of charge for surviving family members of a local hospice patient.

 The most unusual bear order request produced her most colorful creation. A person wanted each part of the bear made from a separate piece of clothing. So while some might have questioned a bear with such a hodge-podge of prints and colors, the end result was deeply meaningful.

 Since January 2013, Nancy has created over 1100 bears for a Pennsylvania hospice. But that’s not a true total since she simply hadn’t kept count before then.

 For the hospice work, Nancy usually has no connection to the person who has passed away or to the family. She receives the material and request from a Hospice contact.

 Nancy says as she begins a new bear, she lays out the material, smoothing it with her hands, and considers what the person may have been like and what memories this clothing may represent to those left behind. It’s a spiritual moment as Nancy makes a connection to the life that’s no longer on earth. 

 When Nancy made a bear for a widow, the only information provided was that the widow’s husband had been a “spiffy” dresser. Nancy made that bear wearing a tie with a matching pocket square. The widow was delighted.

 I didn’t stumble across Nancy by accident; she’s the best friend of my sister Beverly. When my son Tim died, Bev asked me for some of his clothing so she could have a Tim-bear made for herself. She suggested maybe I wanted one too.

 Nancy ended up making ten Tim-bears for our family. I chose the clothing from among  his favorite tie-dye shirt from his boyhood,   a skateboarding shirt,  his comfy stay-at-home pants that had been falling apart and been held together (literally) with staples, safety pins, and duct tape, and a Superman cape that once was attached to a set of toddler pajamas

 The offset for some of the Tim-bear ears or paws were swatches from a favorite but worn-out dress of mine. When you read Saturday’s post called Ashes of Roses, you’ll understand why.

 Nancy is grateful to know her bears hold such deep meaning to those in the midst of grief. She enjoys reading the thank you notes that the families send, but she is oh-so-humble about her work. She couldn’t fathom why I wanted to write about her.

 I assured her my readers would love knowing about the on-going dedication to her gift of presenting one last tangible memory to those left behind.

 Two adult sisters had been estranged for years. When their mother died, one sister had two matching bears made and presented one to her sister. It was a healing moment and brought them back together.

 Who says a teddy bear can’t work miracles?