Actually it's funny because for some reason I was just recently talking about my bankie a couple days ago...with C I believe. When I was little I had a security blanket, "bankie" I believe I called it. I had just turned 6 when we moved to a new house, and my mom tells the story of the movers finding an old, dirty, tattered rag that had fallen out of one of the boxes, and asking "What is this, should we throw it away?"
I don't remember it myself, but I have a picture in my head of a huge burly mover guy, holding a flimsy piece of cloth between a finger and thumb, looking at it disdainfully. Mom tells me I immediately started crying out, "My bankie, my bankie!" ...and it became clear to everyone that the ragged old blanket should not be discarded.
I must have outgrown that blanket fairly soon thereafter, since I have no memories of it. Either that or it just self-disintegrated at some point. My bear, "Ted", lasted much much longer - in fact, I still have him. Ted is the same age as I am; I got him when I was just a baby. Apparently some salesman came by, wanting to demonstrate a vacuum cleaner, in return for which he'd give the homeowner a huge stuffed bear.
Ted was bigger than me for the first few years of my life. When I outgrew my favorite outfit (a light blue haltertop and shorts) around the age of 4 or 5, I put it on Ted. I apparently didn't mind that he was wearing girls' clothes.
Ted, like the Velveteen Rabbit, was thoroughly well-loved. The earliest memory I have of his original face involves nothing but a pom-pom nose, hanging limply from a few threads. I don't know what the rest of his face ever looked like. I do remember making him a new face out of felt when that nose finally gave up, and gluing it on. I believe even the new face is down to nothing but a nose...I'll have to check tonight.
Almost half of his stuffing is missing. I periodically shake him upside-down, letting the stuffing into his upper half, so that at least the top of him will look plump and well-stuffed, for display in my bedroom. His shriveled, crippled legs are really just fabric, with only a few pieces of stuffing.
I used to periodically attempt to sew up his holes, because in college I still would sleep with him. He was constantly bleeding stuffing into my bed. Finally I came to accept that his skin was so thin, and full of so many little holes, that repairing them was pointless, and I gave up sleeping with him. I figure he'll last longer if I don't play with him anymore. Now he's just decoration.
When I stopped sleeping with Ted, I started trying to hint to boys I was dating that I needed a new bear. I thought it would be sweeter coming from a boy than just buying myself one. I would introduce each boy I dated to Ted, and explain how old and well-loved he was. How he was too fragile to safely hug any longer. It took awhile...boys aren't very good at picking up such signals. Finally one boy, S, got the message. The first gift he ever game me was Jethro, a fluffy hugable white bear.
Jethro is great; I've had him for almost 6 years now. I still sleep with him most nights - even when I'm sleeping with a boy, I generally sleep with Jethro too. They learn to put up with it. His face and skin are all still intact, but he does get dirty and less-fluffy over time. I periodically toss him in the washing machine, which helps a lot. He has a faint bluish tinge, from my blue flannel sheets (which tend to lightly color everything they touch). He is another well-loved bear.