Bear hugs for sale
Elisabeth Barker, 37, from Bridgend, has a unique way to help people remember their loved ones
As I sat beside the Christmas tree in 2016, my husband Robert, 40, pointed to a present.
‘One last gift for you,’ he said, grinning. How intriguing!
Unwrapping the paper carefully, I felt a smile spread across my face as I realised what it was.
A lovely, brand-new sewing machine.
I’d studied Textiles at A-level, and I was naturally creative, loved needlework.
But it’d all been put on the back-burner with the long hours I worked as a civil servant.
When our son Travis was born in 2016, sewing fell further down my list of priorities.
Now, finding some quiet time once
Travis was in bed a few weeks later, I played around with the sewing machine.
At once , I felt the thrill that I’d first experienced all those years ago, when I’d first discovered sewing.
Soon after, I had a clear-out of Travis’ old baby clothes.
‘I wish I could keep them – they’re our memories!’ I sighed to Robert. Lightbulb moment! Maybe I could keep some... Cutting out parts of Travis’ old T-shirts, I began to sew
She slept through the night for the first time since her dad died
them onto a pillow case.
Experimenting, I started creating teddy bears, meticulously stitching on parts of Travis’ clothing. At first, they weren’t great. But sewing into the night, trying different styles and patterns, the bears evolved.
Adding collars, ties and braces, my creativity flowed.
‘They look brilliant!’ my friends said.
Soon, they were asking for their kids’ or relatives’ clothes to be turned into bears.
As time went on, strangers were contacting me, too, so I set up a Facebook page advertising my work.
In February 2017, a woman asked me to make a teddy out of her brother’s clothes, to give to his two young sons. Only this was different. Her brother had passed away after battling cancer.
‘It’s such a huge responsibility. What if I get it wrong?’ I said to Robert.
But I agreed to give it a go. Painstakingly cutting out parts of a shirt, I worked for hours. Handing it over to the boys was an emotional moment.
By October last year, I was receiving dozens of orders every week, mainly through Facebook or by phone.
Then, this year, a woman called Joanne got in touch through Facebook, after her partner had died, aged just 48.
Her daughter Bethan, 11, was inconsolable. She wanted something to remember her father.
Joanne and Bethan visited me at home and we talked for hours about her dad’s personality, his characteristics and interests.
Tears filled my eyes when Bethan told me she was struggling to sleep since her daddy passed away.
This acute feeling of grief was something I was all too familiar with.
You see, I’d experienced my own fair share of loss. When I was 12, my sister Delyth had died – she was just 18. While training to be a vet, she’d had a fatal crash when driving a farm tractor. My life was never the same again. Then, when I was 23, my father died suddenly when he suffered a perforated stomach ulcer. Overwhelmed by grief, I’d tried to keep their memories alive, holding on to their clothes, hanging their pictures on my walls. It was all I had left. Going through bereavement gave me the empathy I needed to start making bears for other grieving families.
It’s the toughest experience of anyone’s life, losing loved ones. But if I could heal someone’s pain just a little bit,
I’d succeeded. Bethan slept through the night for the first time in the 11 weeks since losing her father when she had the bear I’d made from her dad’s polo shirt.
‘Thank you,’ her mum smiled. Now, making bears takes up most of my time. First, I’ll speak to the customer on the phone – or invite them round, if they’re local. Learning about the loved one who’s passed away and knowing exactly what the customer wants is crucial. But sometimes they don’t know themselves...they’re too blinded by grief.
Often, they’ll struggle to go through a bag of clothes to pick an item.
I empathise – my dad’s dressing gown still hangs over my bedroom door and I can’t bring myself to touch it.
So I’ll help them, selecting a piece that would work.
We’ve even had customers ask to keep stains on clothing – if their loved one was a mechanic and there’s an oil mark, for example.
And it’s not just humans my customers want to remember.
I’ve made bears out of a late dog’s bed, cat’s blanket and horse’s saddle pads.
I don’t just make teddy bears, either – I’ve sewn clothing and accessories onto cushions, stuffed elephants and owls.
I’m still as meticulous in my work as ever. Measure twice, cut once, and always 100 per cent concentration.
Although I earn a bit of cash from the work, I’m not in it for the money. I see it as a hobby that pays for the food shop.
Some of the stories of loss have had me in tears.
A mother myself, it’s difficult to hear when parents have lost children. But it’s an honour to know I’m helping them in some small way. Grief is never easy.
I see what I’m doing as changing a suitcase of precious memories into something to cherish. Something to cuddle. We all need that from time to time.