I would like to introduce you all to one of my oldest and dearest friends. It's perhaps a bit odd that he and I would become so close. He's six years older than me and rather quiet but I love him more than I could ever even say. He's been there for me when I had no one else. He's been the one I've cried to about every fight my parents had,, every time I was picked on at school or chased home having rocks thrown at me. He was there for me when my father died. He comforted me when friends hurt me, through every bad break-up, and broken heart. His name is Blue and he is a blanket. I know it seems silly for an adult to still have a baby blanket and I don't care.
Blue was actually my sister's baby blanket but from the moment I first saw him tucked away in her closet it was love and I had to have him. Blue was never blue. He was white with a green and pink flower pattern and pink and green ties. I named him Blue Blankie because I liked the sound and thought it suited him.
Every time my mother would wash him I would sit in front of the washer and dryer until it was done and I could have him back. I slept with him every night, carried him to the dinner table, and even tried to take a bath with him. My parents once tried to hide him from me. They told me that he had decided to go live somewhere else. I knew they were lying, Blue would never leave me. I remember running around out in a rain storm calling to him and crying. I must have been three or four. My dad was standing on the porch yelling at me to come in but I wouldn't. I remember him coming down and picking me up and me pounding on him and screaming bloody murder, I had to find Blue! Once inside there was Blue, sitting calmly on the floor waiting for me. They never tried to take him away again.
I slept with him every single night. He went along on road trips, camping trips, sleep-overs. I couldn't bare to sleep without him in my arms. One day Kristofor, my husband, came home to find me clutching a still damp Blue and crying. He asked me what was wrong and I held up Blue and choked out, "Look at him! He's dying!" It was true. My poor Blue was in tatters. The green and pink pattern long ago worn away, the fabric all thread-bare. I had long ago stopped washing him in a machine but now even hand washing him was doing so much damage he was just falling apart. Kristofor slowly pulled Blue away from me and folded him up. He went into the closet and put Blue up on a shelf. "If you want to save him, you have to let him go. You can't sleep with him anymore." He was right. I didn't sleep for three days. That was five, maybe six years ago and I haven't slept with Blue since. He sits on his own shelf in my closet and every once in a while, when I'm sad or having a very bad day, I pull him down and breathe deep his musty smell.
5 comments:
Aww, this was a very sweet story. It might be because it reminds me somewhat of my niece and a blanket my mother knit for her when she was a baby. She still has it and brings it along on overnight trips with her, as a teenager. Or it might be because this was a well written story that I could really visualize. Whatever the reason, by the time I finished reading, I was sitting here with a sappy little smile on my face. I'm glad Blue is still around for you, when you need him.
I really liked this one. Was really well written and I'm glad Blue's still around for you too. :)
Aw, sweet and sentimental, I would get all mushy if I had a heart.
Wow...that is one very...erm...LOVED blankie! That is so great you've kept something around that long.
Well do I remember the ever present Blue. It was a momentous day when he was put up on the shelf, and says a lot about your relationship with Kris if you think about it. I really enjoyed reading about him. Thanks for sharing :)
Post a Comment