THE BLANKET

Her name is Sarah and it is a proper and fitting name for someone of her nature; quite the paradox she is, having passed herself off to be a girl in pink. Pink climbs like a boy, shouts like a boy, and wrestles with Dad like a boy. Pink is her trademark and she wears it well with her golden, flowing hair and giant apple cheeks.

I sensed when I held her securely in my arms at birth, she would not be there long. Even though as a toddler, she stuck to me like super glue. In spite of her independence, ferociously racing about, she would rush right back and come charging into my arms like a baby bull, returning only to get a "mommy fix." I knew it was all temporary. Like all good books, it would end too soon.

For a while back there, I thought I would lose her. "Neurosurgery" is such a scary word. In spite of my lack of faith, she sprang back with new life and a strong desire to live BIG.

I, on the other hand, spent much of my vigor and vim at the hospital. It seems I left with less life in me. "Sometimes life is tough," were the words my Dad spoke to console me. He was right.

I recall the day my sister gave the blanket to Sarah. It was pink and soft like her. The material was of a fine gingham cotton. "This will last forever" I thought. Little did I know lifetime warranties did not hold with Sarah.

Sarah ate, played, slept and breathed with "Blankey." Sarah cried, laughed, and screamed with Blankey. Blankey started the day with Sarah as she rose from her bed and would finish the evening with her as she finally collapsed into sweet dreams at night.

God forbid, if Blankey would need a "bath." As we continuously checked the progression of the wash cycle, I endured the drying time to the never-ending moans of "I want my Blankey now." Often times, Blankey was not quite dry. But it could not be helped. My sanity was more important then.

Almost 18 years have come and gone, and Blankey still lives. Its ruffles have worn off as well as its bright pink luster. Some things have changed.

"Ruff and tumble" Sarah has grown into a young woman and she will soon graduate from high school. Then she is off to college in the fall to begin her new life.

Just as appearances have faded, Blankey?s usefulness has waned also. Blankey has served its purpose; being there through good times and bad, to comfort and soothe, to strengthen and serve. Sarah is now a confident, beautiful woman and although she loves her Blankey, she no longer needs it.

Yes, sometimes life is tough. New things grow old and so do we. But, if done right, we will create a new light to pave the way. My light I like to call Sarah. Good job Blankey! Good job Me!

Written by Nina Troth