Dear daughter loved a teddy bear. She snuggled on his knee and shared a secret or two, or three.
Dear Grandmother loved a teddy too. She snuggled up to him as he would have her do. And then it did not end.
Dear mother met him and pushed away, but in the end told not to say, cause mother would not like her.
No word was said, but mother knew and blamed the blameless as they often do; because, you know, she loved him too.
And now he’s dead, not to be found, but his silent command still captures the ground.
Today I stand with megaphone and say out loud, “I’m coming home. It’s not your fault.” I say to her, and her, and him. “ It’s time to cause the shame to dim.”
The deed is done, now hush no one. Speak and say and learn to play by causing the harm to be undone and breaking the barbs that bind your tongue.
So now it’s time for the child to lead, and speak in gentle voice and deed. And plant the seed of communication in this time for convocation.
Acknowledge the care of the grooming bear toward the babies in his lair. And tell those babies their stories to share for they’re no longer under the bear.
And the bear is lonely and the bear is sad and the bear once was a little lad. This lad once too a secret had. A secret he so carefully hid, and now it’s time to remove the lid.
The greatest pain is the secret shame and exposing it stops the nasty game.