Red Flannel

When you hear "red flannel", what comes to mind?
The typical man's shirt?  the Christmas holidays?

For me, it means my "blankie".  And that's a laughable term coming from an old Gal!  But yes, I have a red flannel "blankie".  I've had it since the early 90s, and it's been patched and sewed back together many times!  It's been washed so many times that it weighs half what it did when it was new!   But there's nothing better than a cold winter night snuggled under a flannel blanket.   And that's why I originally purchased this one.

It was a harsh winter, colder than normal temps in the San Jose, Calif, and my bedroom was in the back of the house, upstairs.  It had no heating unit up there, and typical of old school add-ons it was short on electrical outlets as well.  So another blanket on the bed made sense!

Over time, this blanket became important to me.  When my marriage was in trouble, I had trouble sleeping.  I would snag this blanket off the bed and wrap it around me, and sit on the couch downstairs while my brain contemplated our problems and tried to come up with solutions.  When things were heated, at their worst, I would sneak down with my blanket, and cry.  My blanket kept me warm, wrapped itself around me, dried my tears, and if it could talk, could tell you some stories!

It moved with me from California, to Ohio, to Arizona.  In Ohio, it kept me warm on snowy days, wrapped up in it, sipping hot chocolate and watching old movies.  It was on my bed every winter for nearly 25 years, and has been the perfect blanket for me.  (Wait, 25 years? I'm getting OLD!)

But it's usefulness isn't what it used to be.  Every tug in the middle of the night to pull it up over me, I could hear it tearing into more pieces.  There's just not enough of it left to sew back together and keep it a full sized blanket any more.  I purchased another flannel one, in greys this time, because I realized that it's time to give up my "blankie".   But it ain't easy!   Getting over the past, getting past the hurts, all happened with time.  And now, after 9 years in Arizona, it's time to let another piece of my history go.  I'm sure my daughter would tell me "Mom, get rid of this ol' thing!"  but it isn't easy when it's always been there for you.  

Goodbye, Red Flannel Blankie!