Why is it that I seem to find the sad things in life? That they seem to follow me, seeking me out. Like “Hey, over here, you need to see this.” Calling me, pulling me down and then under. If you suffer from depression you’ll understand that last sentence, I think. That trip doesn’t take long now, like I’m always on the edge and fall off. A lot.
I’m wondering if it’s because depression leads me that way, or if it’s a combination of all the factors in my life that I’m having to deal with constantly. I’m in nonstop pain, and I don’t sleep or eat properly. I have a quality of life that seems to be tipping the scale in the wrong direction. I’m stooped over both figuratively and in reality, much like the bear below.
Once or twice a week I drive an hour north to escape this urban rot (long past decay) to enjoy the great outdoors. I do mean great, especially where I live. It doesn’t take much of a drive to get into the wilderness. The drive goes from one mega freeway to the next, until I hit the blacktop road running east for ten miles to my final destination.
The trip is to the lake where I’m a member. I know that sounds bad, but it’s the only way to do it if you want peace and quiet more than you really want fish in the pot. Fly fishing has become a passion of mine and one of the best distractions I have. You have to concentrate so hard on trying to entice a 5 pound fish to grab your fly tied on the end of your line. It’s no bigger than an ant, and weighs the same.
The time driving on the blacktop road is actually kind of nice. Speed limit is 80 kph with each side of the road having something that has a countryside feel to it. A pick-your-own strawberry farm, riding stables, fruit markets in the right season. Dog boarding and grooming. All of which is dotted in between the farm fields and bits of pine forest.
It’s on the last stretch of road before I get to the lake that the above image catches my eye and holds it for a brief second. It just seems so sad that this stuffed teddy bear is left hanging there. For the past two years that I know of at least.
We as humans personify everything in our lives. We give human names to things, inanimate objects that fill our spaces. Even more so our pets and other living creatures.
I am certain this teddy bear, made of faux fur, polyesters, foam and little button eyes, has a name. The one given to it by the young girl whose unexpected death occurred here on this two lane road that he stands guard over. I’ll probably never know the bear’s name, but will know its sadness just the same.
I haven’t googled the site to look for any details of who she was or when she died. Judging from the picture on the cross, she was quite young. I can simply tell from the bear it was very tragic, and don’t need to know anymore than that.
I thought I would be thoroughly depressed when I finished writing this, but found a sense of calm in doing so. The tragedy reinforces the beauty of it all.
I’ll continue to look for it as I go, and will be saddened to see him leave. Unless he outlives me.
