Today (January 20) is the feast day of St. Sebastian, a special patron of mine. He's
the namesake of my beloved bear, given to me by my Moma on the occasion of my
sweet 16th birthday. Knowing she would be moving away soon, Moma wanted me
to have a friend to help keep me company thru the remaining difficult, long, and
lonely days of chemo. Smiling softly as neither one of us had any idea what a good
and faithful friend he would become (and has remained).
When looking for a name for my brand new bear buddy, I was trying on the usual
options like "Teddy." A friend who was visiting me in the hospital playfully
challenged me into being more creative.
At the time I was getting 2 iv's during every single chemo. The first was for the
life-saving medications and the other was for saline to help keep my body hydrated
while also helping to flush the dangerous drugs out of my system so that they didn't
stay too long and begin to damage healthy cells and tissues. Blood work was another
constant, monitoring my white blood cell count and other things.
These were the days before "ports" and so every single time an iv was put in or
blood was drawn, there was at least one new needle. My veins were already fragile
in the beginning and, over time, they had gotten pretty bad with all of the sticks
plus the potent medications flowing thru them. It was getting rarer and rarer for it
to take just one try.
When I learned about St. Sebastian's story and how he was once tied to a tree, shot
full of arrows.. and *lived!,* I knew I'd found a name for my new bedside buddy. It
comforted me knowing St. Sebastian had made it thru all of his arrow punctures and
his story was a deep encouragement for me to hold on to Hope. Maybe, just maybe
I would survive too.
. . . . .
Long after I was in remission, I kept Sebastian close. He continued to sleep with me
every night, quietly catching my stories and dreams along with my laughter, fears
and tears. Smiling playfully because, as stuffed animals often do, he became a
member of our family, even going on mountain trips with us.
A friend once commented to me in passing that once I found a husband, Sebastian
would have to be put up. Without missing a beat I retorted with a snort (this was
serious business after all!) that "if my husband didn't understand about Sebastian,
then he wasn't the man for me!"
Grinning now because I have family photos with him included and there *may* even
be a picture or two of family members other than me napping with him. Yes, my
sweet bear was/is a very special and comfortable sidekick.
Smiling softly as Sebastian no longer sleeps with me but that isn't because my dear
Tadd doesn't understand. No, it's because my cherished companion was starting to
get worn including some pretty big rips under his arms and I didn't want him to fall
completely apart.
These days? My beloved friend rests in his place of honor on my closet shelf. When
the door is open, as it often is, I can see him still watching over me as he has for
(almost) 40 years.
Ah, yes....I am deeply, profoundly grateful for my soft, brown guardian angel.
(And lookie what color is bandana is!)
Blessed be.
#SavouringJanuary2018
. * .
