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Blankets

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A blanket can be just a blanket - it simply warms you when you are cold. There are other blankets which are special. They are favoured for a number of different reasons - some which can only be explained in the mind of the admirer. In our house, in my mind, blankets have a special significance. They are the symbol of my great love and devotion to my children.

Logan, my son whom I had just given birth to, was very uncomfortable one afternoon. A nurse demonstrated to me how he would settle after she swaddled him. She bound him tight, making him into a stiff little package and he immediately settled down, finally content. It only made sense - after being bound in the womb for so long, he felt disorientated in his new unrestricted environment.

I continued to bind him when he was just new and needed comforting. When his legs and arms became to long to tuck into a blanket, I would wrap the blanket around him as best I could and hold him tightly as I sang, and rocked and comforted him. Although never a child who had any attachment to a security blanket, I knew he associated the blanket with comfort when, as a toddler, I heard him cry out for me one afternoon. I was coming to comfort him, and was just in time to watch him first gather his blanket before coming to find me. When his sister, Meica, was born this use of blankets continued.

There was a list of important blankets in our family. There was Logan’s bear blanket, handcrafted by his Aunt Brenda, given at his birth. There was the sleeping bag blanket made by Grandma Mansiere. Both children had blankets make by Grandma Mansiere. She had made each grandchild 2 when they were born. One ‘good’ one for a crib quilt, and one she called a ‘knock-around’ blanket. The knock-around blanket was for the child to drag around, place on the floor, sleep on, - everything kids want to do with blankets, but aren’t allowed to do with 'new' blankets. I had make a quilt when Logan was born for his bed. It had appliqued butterflies and 3 oversized flowers with a colorful rainbow. Both children had slept under that blanket, and watching them sleep under it, I would think how I had make the blanket with love and how it was was protecting them while they slept.

Eventually, the children became to big to need Mom to cuddle them when they were hurt or frightened, or just needed a hug. The blankets took on a new role, not much different than before. Logan spent much of his time with a blanket to warm him as he was watching TV or was just being quiet. I too, used to spend my evening with a blanket to warm me as I was watched television. Sometimes Logan would come and join me, crawling under my blanket with me. After we had Meica, then all three would share a blanket on the love seat. Eventually, Logan had his own large blankets, but would still come to share mine, or share his with Meica, or all three of us.

I had my Shetland Wool tartan blanket, a wedding gift, which Meica and I shared, however; she glowed when Logan brought his blanket for us to cuddle under. I then realized that she didn't have a blanket that she could ‘share’ with us. That was the year she got her “Minnie Mouse’ blanket for Christmas. We spent many hours under that blanket. I would always ask if she wanted the blanket when we sat together. Only on the hottest summer days did she refuse it. She expecially liked it when Logan came to share her blanket.

The blankets had ceased to be just blankets. They had become symbols of caring and nurturing and family. I always felt warmed, not only by the blankets, but by the feeling that I had under those blankets with my two children.

The night of the day Meica died, Logan and I again sat together on the love seat, he laying across my lap, comforting each other. As usual when we sat together to be close, he reached for a blanket to cover us - it was Meica’s Minnie Mouse blanket. That night as I looked into his room to check on him, I saw him wrapped tight in Meica’s blanket, asleep. The next night, as I lay stuggling to sleep, I heard him come into our room in the darkness. He was bringing me Meica’s blanket, gently laying it over me, saying that he thought it had allowed him to sleep the night before and he wanted me to have it so I could finally sleep. I still sleep with that blanket.






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