Blankets Covering Blessings

The first blanket I made was for Ben. We had started dating in the Spring of 1990. By Christmas that year, I wanted to give him something special, but I really didn't have any money to spend.  I decided to make him a quilt.  For most people, visions of old ladies in a circle working on individual squares conjure up.  This was a simple one of squares and rectangles that could be assembled with a machine.  It still took me a couple of days to finish it.  Remember, I had no kids and I wasn't in school and it was Christmas break.  The squares lined up perfectly and all the seams were exactly 5/8".   

The last step in the blanket making process for Ben's quilt entailed using a doll making needle and tying knots of blue yarn at each intersection of the patterns.  It was a test in patience and my mother had to cheer me on in order for me not to give up.  She somehow taught me to sew despite my innate ability to stop and start every project at least 5 times.  The blanket was finished. I placed it in a rather ominously sized box and wrapped it for Christmas. 

 I was spending the holiday with Ben's family that year, much to my mother's chagrin I'm sure.  

He opened it on Christmas Eve (a venial sin in my book, but I was a guest remember) and proceeded to tear up. Yep, cry. Not hard, just enough that I realized how much he loved it and loved me too.  That blanket came to be a great comfort to him while he was away from me and I was glad to have made it.  It also saw a lot of smooches on road trips, future sofa backs, and all of our babies rolled around on it.  All blankets that have been made by me are compared to it's softness and size.  

"Is it as big as Daddy's that you made?" asked a 6 year old Max who suddenly wanted his blanket made larger after his baby sister was born and given one of her own.  I made his before he was born, not knowing whether he was a boy or a girl.  It was light blue and white striped with a small patchwork section in the middle.  I put a few pink squared in it just in case he turned out to be Emily and not Max.  A fine wall hanging that turned into the security object to beat the band.  

Max was born in mid November in South Carolina. It was colder than I imagined.  That wall hanging of a blanket became warmth for a chubby baby all winter.  When he was about 9 months old I took the blanket out of the crib to lay him down in the living room or something. He proceeded to roll around with it sucking on his binky and showed off one beautiful display of contentment as he grabbed the ruffle on the edge.  He loved the ruffle. By the time he was 2 or so, one particular corner of the blanket's ruffle was his favorite.  Sandwiched between his fingers and the palm of his hand it lay to be caressed until he melted into sleep.  

My second son, Paul was born a mere 19 months after Max.  His blanket was not constructed until was about 6 months old.  I tried to replicated Max's but it still turned out differently.  I didn't have the time to make any elaborate patchwork. It was a basic square with the obligatory ruffle.  Primary colors and super soft. Paul loved his blanket, but not as much as Max. Paul decided early on that sleeping with me was the best way to drift to sleep. It was the only place he had me all to himself.  His attachment to his blanket evolved over years.  

Grace's blanket was a true mixing of all the previous successful blankets.  Soft calico, thin padding, but she got a satin ribbon around hers.  Lavender and cream were her colors.  I made this before she was born not knowing her sex either, but as soon as I laid it out for Ben to see its completion, he said, "It's a girl. Look at that blanket." Max suddenly needed a bigger blanket. Paul wanted one too but I was too tired making and augmenting blankets.  

Left over material and a little more padding helped Max's blanket to take him through a few more years.  The tattered ruffle is gone and the center, all be it soft, is the only original part.  Once, Max had a few friends staying over well after he had turned 13.  They picked on him for having his blanket wrapped around his neck.  In his newly bestowed deeper voice, he stated to them, "You only wish you had this blanket."  

No, I only wish I had a few more times of snuggling with all of them with their blankets.  Instead, each of them are reminded nightly how much I love them.  Wrapping them in soft blankets has been one of the greatest feelings of love I have experienced.  It tells both of us that we love each other. I love them enough to share my time. They love me by continuing to covet each inch of their blankets.