Her Blanket

I have a confession to make. I sleep with my daughters blanket. It’s been on my bed for the last 10 months right next to my pillow and it hasn’t moved. When I first took it into my room with me I almost felt ashamed. I would question rather this was “normal” or “healthy” for me to be doing. After awhile those questions started to fade and the blanket stayed put. Just knowing it was one of the last things she had touched brought some sort of comfort to me, almost like when I hold the blanket I’m holding my daughter. Tough days and nights I would find myself holding the blanket in my grip not wanting to let it go. Stroking it has brought needed comfort when it’s hard for me to fall asleep. When I’m washing the sheets and remaking the bed I make sure it’s always there just in case I need it. I can’t imagine a day when I won’t need it there by my side, my little security blanket. I can’t picture removing it and placing it somewhere else away from my reach. Years from now when the pain doesn’t hurt as much it may happen. But not tonight.  



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