Growing Up?

Today was a sad day for me. My blankie, which I have had since I was a baby, bit the dust today. For those of you who knew blankie well, you know it had a hard life. Living with me was not easy. I rubbed the life out of it on many an occasion. It has been re-covered, re-modeled, and completely overhauled more times than I can count. The only original parts left were the remnants of the zipper it once had before it had been revamped into a blankie. I had just recently gone on a quest to locate the proper fabric for its latest and much needed remodel. It is still sitting in my sewing basket, waiting for a rainy day.











(Blankie and I on Christmas.)



Unfortunately, blankie just couldn't hold out that long. Today, after a long battle at life with me, at the ripe old age of 26, blankie died at the hands of the washing machine.

Blankie saw me through my childhood, the deaths of numerous pets, including the heartbreaking loss of Duchess, college, and of course our more recent personal losses.

Now, many of you may be wondering why a grown woman is still clinging to a blanket. I really can't answer that. Cristy's blankie and mine were almost as much sisters to us as Sabrina (who also has 'Little Baby'). Nate and Justin can certainty testify to our personifications of green and yellow silky fabric. Many a shriek has been heard as they have used those tiny squares of our childhood as bargaining chips against us. Since meeting Nate, blankie has appropriately taken a back seat, only coming out when he was out of town, if I was sick, or simply mad at him. It spent many weeks and months tucked under our bed or hidden in the closet, but I would be lying if I didn't say my relationship with blankie wasn't a bit like an alcoholic's relationship with the bottle. After a hard day I would pull blankie out and lay on the couch, but the minute I heard Nate pull up in the driveway I would toss blankie behind a chair or table, hiding it in shame. I would sneak it around the house, hiding it in new locations where I could secretly steal a quick rubbing fix.

Hi, my name is Lexy, and I am a rubbing addict.

It's true, I am addicted to the feeling of rubbing silky fabrics together. Even silky nightgowns. I'm not even conscious of it most of the time. I instinctively reach out to the fabric and start rubbing the sides together. If Nate wasn't constantly pointing it out, I might have never noticed it.

But, getting back to the point. This is an obituary for blankie. It was a true companion through every part of my life and I am very sad to see it's tattered shreds go. I couldn't even take it out to the garbage myself. I have a few pieces of the original blanket in my jewelry box to keep. And I'm sure my addiction will still have me rubbing fabrics, but they will never be my dear friend known to all as simply: Blankie.