Hands covered in paint.

Black bear with its Scottish styled hat.

"Ah yes," Mom hummed silently. Her weathered face soft but her old eyes filled with sorrow. "You can have some of his things that he owned. The whales and bears- if that's alright. If you want something else, don't hesitate to ask me." I watched as her old body shuffle to her small little chair.

Some of the others get up and head to the room, and I trail after them. They look at his shelves and cabinets full of small little statues and stray stuff animals around the room. I stand off to the side and gaze around his faded room. Still vibrant with his favorite color.

I soon saw a little black bear at one of the top shelves. A simple black bear with a red flannel bowtie. A red hat with yellow feathers peaking out sat on its head. Covering its small brown eyes from the world. I reach for it.

"Mom," I walk back to were she rested. Her milky eyes stared at me in question. "Is it alright if I have this one?" She stared at the bear in my arms for a moment. Her boney hand reached out at messed with its hat. I noticed her ring flashed in the lighting. "Yes, you can have this fella." She finally said, her faded voice soft.

Later I sat alone on my bed. My siblings already resting for the night. My parents had already settled for the night as well. The bear was in my arms. It's red hat- Scottish styled it looked like (even though it wasn't the intent)- uncovered its eyes. I didn't know what to name it.

I thought about how he was; maybe that could help me find a name for the bear. I thought about he used to pretend to tickle me. How he pretend to cower as I pretended to go tickle him.

How he used to sit at his armchair and tell his stories about his youth.

The different canes and walking sticks he had.

How he sometimes started prayer before the meal.

How he used to wear kilts and Scottish attire to some events.

How he used to take pictures of landscapes and people.

The black bear in my arms took some drops of the tears that streamed down my cheeks. I brought it closer for a hug and silent a small sob. "Scotty," I whispered. "For now, I will call you Scotty." I didn't- I don't know if the bear likes it's name. But I felt like it suited it.

I tucked in in the corner of my mattress and lay down on my sheets. I cuddle into my blankets and clear the water from my eyes. I stare at the black bear with its Scottish styled hat for a moment and closed my eyes. I let sleep take me early tonight.