Security Blanket

I've had this little blanket since the day I was born.  I believe my Mother made it for me and, for whatever reason, it was always my favorite growing up.  Don't laugh, but I still have it.  I've kept it with me through a lot of things.  Now, it is less blanket, more tattered little rag.  There was a period of a few years as a child when this blanket disappeared.  I think my Dad thought I was too old to have a "blanky."  Miraculously, it turned up after a move and I've never let it out of my possession since.  I usually keep it wadded in a small ball tucked out of the way under a pillow.  If I'm feeling really brave, or really competent, I might put it in a drawer.  On nights like this, however, when the clock is ticking away, sleep is nowhere in sight, and I can't put sadness or dread or despair out of my head, this little rag feels like my best friend.  Pathetic, I know.  But this blanket has caught a lot of tears and carries a lot of history.

I always get the shakes for a bit after I give birth.  When that happened after the birth of my second child, my Mom asked me if I wanted my blanket--and I did.  If that gives you any idea how much comfort this ratty old piece of fabric gives to me, then you'll understand why I am clinging to it tightly tonight.  Sometimes you just need a security blanket.