When my Mum passed away, everything changed in ways I hadn’t expected.

It wasn’t just the big moments - it was the everyday things.
The phone calls. The coffee and muffins at her favourite café.
And most of all, not being able to hug her and say, “love you Mum.”

We honoured her wishes and scattered her ashes on Loch Lomond.
But I kept a small amount.

And they just… sat there.

Alongside the things that meant so much -
her watch, her angel pins -
objects filled with meaning, but with nowhere to belong.

My Mum was deeply spiritual. She loved Angels.
She used to say that’s why she called me Angela - because I was her Angel.

Later, I discovered Angela means “Messenger.”

One rainy afternoon, I found myself watching an old documentary about Angels.

And in that moment, something shifted.

I could suddenly see - clearly - what I needed to do.

Not just an idea, but something complete.
Something I could feel as much as see.

I began to bring it to life.

A soft bear with angel wings.
A place to hold what matters most.
Something physical. Something comforting. Something close.

For the first time, I placed a small amount of Mum’s ashes into a golden pouch.

Alongside her watch and her angel pins, inside a heart-shaped tin.

And when I held it - something changed.

It wasn’t just memory anymore.
It felt like closeness.

Like I could hold her again.
Heart to heart.

That’s when I understood what this really was.

Not just something to keep things in -

but something to hold onto
when what you really want to hold is no longer there.

Forever in a Bear was created from that moment.

From love.
From loss.
From a need for something that simply didn’t exist.

My Mum was caring, compassionate, and full of love.

And in many ways, this feels like her gift -
to anyone who is navigating the loss of someone they love.

She is an Angel among Angels now.

And me…

I’m just the Messenger.