Of course I know he was 91, soo… I should expect this, but still the information about death of Michael Bond made of me a sad little “crowbear”. Yeah. I am half bear half crow, somehow. It happens when you are… weird. Or special, or unusual, or just you. But in fact, trust me, he is not dead. Because those who write, create, especially authors of books which touched our hearts, they never die.
It is impossible!!!
I remember my first time.
I was few years old in still communistic Poland… someone brought from abroad or more like it was send by some nice soul… booklets, little adverts of/about Paddington Bear. I do still remember me, getting nothing from what was written there, but seeing that little fluffy guy in his hat and coat, with that brown suitcase. Asking others about Peru. I had those cards for so long. They disappeared with one of our moving adventures, but I still remember this feeling. See, since I was tiny, or more like just a zygote, I was reading. Books were a huge part of my life, almost everything and bears and crows. In fact those three pieces easily created an adult me. Adult still loving Paddington. The Bear who in fact always has his own ideas, things he loved, and always knew what he was up to. Oh yes, of course when you got paws and claws things can easily go not right, but still… this is how he wanted to live, love and… eat.
So nope. Dear Mister Bond, Michael Bond… you are not dead.
Not to me.
I always can open one of your books. You will be forever a piece of me.