The Emotional Side of Making Memory Bears

Lessons from a Keepsake Maker

Back in late 2015, when I stitched my first memory bear, I wasn’t planning to start a business, I was thinking about my son. His outgrown baby clothes had been folded and tucked away in a box, a box full of memories I couldn’t bear to part with.

My husband and I had been talking about having a second child, so I had a reason to hang onto those clothes, just in case we had another boy. But some of them felt too special to pass down. The sleepsuit he wore when we left the hospital. The tiny blue outfit his dad picked out a few hours after he was born (we’d kept the gender a surprise). These weren’t just clothes, they were part of his story.

I wanted to do something meaningful with those tiny pieces of fabric. So I made a bear. Was it perfect? Absolutely not. Should I have practised first? Definitely. But that bear was, and still is, full of precious memories, with every piece of fabric telling its own story.

What I Didn’t Expect Was the Emotion

What I didn’t expect when I made that first bear, and what I’ve learned after making hundreds since, is just how emotional this work would be. Not just for the people we make them for, but for us as makers too.

If you’re thinking about starting a keepsake business, I want to be completely honest: it’s about more than sewing. You need empathy. You need emotional resilience. And you need to be able to hold space for someone else’s grief, often while managing your own.

It’s Never ‘Just’ a Bear, It’s Someone’s Story

Whenever I opened a parcel from a customer, I’d always pause. Because it was never just a bundle of fabric. It was someone’s memories. Their mum. Their dad. Their partner. Their baby who’s growing up too fast, or the baby they didn’t get to hold for long enough.

Every item of clothing holds a story. Sometimes clothes would arrive with a note pinned to each piece. Other times, I’d receive a handwritten letter or a long email sharing who the person was and why these items mattered.

I’ve read about grandfathers who asked their granddaughters to choose their bowtie each day during their visits. About mums who were never seen without their favourite top. I’ve opened clothing that still held the scent of perfume, and found shopping lists in pockets, alongside glasses wipes or receipts. These little things, the ordinary details, are what make each bear human.

I’ve cried over stories that have stayed with me for years. The dad who served his country but never made it home. The dress a mum had planned to wear to her daughter’s wedding, a dress that became a memory bear to sit in her place. These stories stay with you. They’re heavy, yes. But they’re meaningful.

Empathy Needs to Be in Your Toolbox

If you’re naturally empathetic, memory bear making will feel like the right fit, but it’s also what makes it emotionally demanding.

I’ve always felt things deeply. I can easily put myself in someone else’s shoes. I feel their grief, their love, their joy. And that’s what made me good at this.

But I also had to learn to take care of myself. When you absorb other people’s emotions easily, it’s hard not to carry them with you. I had to learn when to pause, when to take a step back, and when to protect my own energy, so I could continue showing up with care.

Trust Is Everything

It didn’t take long for me to realise how much trust people were placing in me. I mean, I made my son’s bear myself because I didn’t trust anyone else with his clothes. I knew exactly how much courage it takes to hand those garments over to a stranger.

These clothes are irreplaceable. There are no second chances, no backup fabrics. You have one opportunity to get it right. That responsibility isn’t something I’ve ever taken lightly.

I’d double-check everything. Triple-check, sometimes. I treated each garment as if it were one of my own. And I reminded myself often, what a privilege it is to be trusted with someone’s memories.

Lessons I’ve Learned Along the Way

After making hundreds of memory bears, these are some of the most important lessons I’ve learned:

You need to set boundaries

This is emotional work. It’s full of meaning and connection, but that also means it can become overwhelming. You’re allowed to step back. You’re allowed to protect your emotional wellbeing. It’s not selfish, it’s essential.

Communication is key

Clients need reassurance. They need to know their memories are in safe hands. Clear, kind, professional communication builds trust. Set expectations early, and always follow through. A beautifully made bear matters, but so does how you make someone feel throughout the process.

The stories stay with you

You won’t remember every name or every bear, but you will remember certain stories. That’s part of the beauty, and part of the emotional cost of what we do.

You’re allowed to feel it too

Sometimes, I’d receive a sleepsuit that matched one my own children wore, and I’d be instantly taken back. You will relate to some stories personally. And that’s okay. This work is emotional for us as well.

It’s Not Just About Sewing

Making memory bears isn’t just about creating something beautiful. It’s about honouring a life, celebrating a milestone, capturing a memory. It’s about empathy. It’s about trust. And it’s about human connection.

If you’re starting a keepsake business or dreaming of becoming a memory bear maker, know this: your sewing skills will grow with time. But it’s your ability to feel, to care, and to hold space for others that will make you great at this work.

It’s not always easy.
But it’s always, always worth it.