Polar

This is the story or a bear, or moreover, of a Polar Bear, named Polar. Not a real bear you understand, but a cuddly bear. He can't be called a teddy bear because he isn't a teddy: He's a polar. If you search online for pictures of toy Polar Bears you will, unless you know the right phrase, be hard pressed to find a bear that looks like Polar, because it seems like the cuddly bears of today strive for anatomical realism, and Polar in no way looks like a realistic bear. He was manufactured by Gund, who continue to make cuddly animals to this day, and in a way, he is an icon of the 1980's. And actually until today, I had no idea that Polar was famous in bear terms. Of course, Polar is not the actual name of the brand of cuddly bear here. According to Gund, the bear is called Snuffles, and is their most successful cuddly toy to date. He was designed in 1980, and is relatively unique in that he looks up at whoever is holding him. Whilst the Wikipedia article shows Snuffles of various colours, shapes and sizes (all of whom look vaguely frightening if I must say), manufactured since 1980 up until the present day (his 30th Anniversary year), my Polar is pure white and 13 inches tall. And he has been with me, more or less, since birth. He can be seen hanging out in the background of several of my baby photographs from 1989, and my Mum recollects that I was initially frightened of him (probably because as a baby, a white bear that was approximately the same size as me likely seemed quite threatening). Today, he is the only cuddly toy I own.

Considering he is the same age as me, he's looking pretty good. His nose is a little worn, his tail is fraying (bears have tails?! Yes they do) and and his fur under the arms is falling out, but other than that, he is still as huggable and soft as ever. Why am I bringing up in such exquisite detail my affectionate relationship with a cuddly toy? Because I would like to believe that in the event of a fire, Polar would be one of the first things I grabbed to save. You can have your computers and games and CDs, because they are replaceable. But to me, Polar has become irreplaceable. Even though I could buy a new Snuffles bear, it wouldn't be Polar: It would just be a new Snuffles bear. To me, Polar is a physical manifestation of my childhood. I look at him and can vaguely remember, with weakening certainty, what things were like back then. Unlike my sister, who was so attached to her cuddly toys they literally went on holiday with her, Polar never really left my bedroom, and to be honest I didn't hug him much. He was just... there. Like an old friend. Sitting in the corner, smiling benignly. Never passing judgement or wanting for anything. And for that, just for being there, I am grateful.

Of course, all this might be a tad weird and creepy, so if you're freaked out, I apologise.