Early this morning I decided what I was going to write, but a couple of things happened to interfere with writing in that particular moment and now that I’m home after an 8 hour shift at work and it’s 10 pm I realize I’ve used up too much brain power, because I cannot for the life of me remember what I was going to be thankful for. So, I looked around for inspiration and found it.
I’m thankful for my blankey.
I’m one of the oldest grandchildren on my father’s side of the family even though is one of the youngest of 12. My parents got married young. . . . too young. Anyway, my great grandmother was still alive at the time, she lived until she was 97, I was in college at the time. I only have a few things from Granny Gingrich, one of them being my blankey that she and my grandmother quilted. It is hard to see in the picture, but there is a swan in a pond with lilies and pussy willows. At one point her name was embroidered at the bottom, but I’ve had this blanket for over 30 years and the embroidery has worn away.
The one constant in my life has been my blankey. Like Linus’ security blanket, it has been with me everywhere. My family moved a lot, a LOT! By the time I was 17 I had moved 21 times. My blankey faithfully by my side, comforting me through nightmares and new homes. My blankey holds a lot of secrets and a lot of stories. Like the time my sister and I snuck into my mom’s closet with her red finger nail polish and spilt the entire container all over it, I don’t think any of the polish actually got on our nails.
My recent move, both exciting and terrifying, means sleepless nights as stress eats away at my brain or new noises keep me awake, I pull out old faithful and sleep crowds out the worries, because my body knows that blankey means sleepy time.
Today was a long day, and I had caffeine much later than I should have, and stresses are piling on, and I’m really really thankful for my blankey.