Three Sweet C's, Little Lucy and Me: In Memoriam

Over the weekend a blankie met an untimely end at our house.

Cooper has held the same blanket every night since he was a tiny thing. It was my FAV when we brought him home and I swaddled him in it, wiped his face with it and carried it with us wherever we were.

Naturally, it became his favorite too.

It has seen better days. It is flannel. Worn so thin in places you can see through it. Holes scattered throughout. I tend not to wash it as often as it needs, for fear it may disintegrate. When I do wash it, it is the first item he asks for. He scoops it up and holds it to his precious face, smelling the fresh right out of it and soaking up the warmth from the dryer.

His grandma Judy made it for him along with about 5 others. This is the one he latched on to.

Anyone else have a child attached to a lovie?

He has a buddy too, they both go everywhere.
And they are definitely "must-haves" at bedtime.

Now you know the back story... Here's how the moment went.

Cooper, being Cooper, uses this blanket for everything. It is a rope on an adventure through a jungle. It is a toga or belt or cape depending on the type situation he may be in. It is a picnic spot in the living room. It has been used as a Kleenex, a first aid kit and to dry the tears from his eyes.

It also has been used as a weapon one too many times. He uses it like a whip, dashing picture frames to the floor and clearing people out of a room. Sigh...

Sunday, he used it as a lashing instrument on me. I, being ever so calm and cool at all times, yanked it out of his hand... And, well, with all the holes... It never had a chance.

The thing fell apart like a spiderweb. Just evaporated down the middle and to each corner.

I felt so small, so sick to my stomach.

As unhappy as I am about being "whipped" with the treasure, I would never intentionally destroy it.

Cooper fell apart about as quickly as the blanket. Fell. Apart.

Cory, who was much calmer, picked up the pieces and took us all to Coop's room where he managed to have a service for blankie.

Cooper could barely speak about it through the tears.

So, Cory started by talking about how blankie had been there for him, helped him feel comfort and warmth. Told Cooper how blankie had lived a good life and would now go where any well respected blanket would love to be.

The keepsake box in the attic.

I spoke a little. About how it had been my favorite when we brought him home. How I would wrap him up in it and play peek-a-boo behind it with him. How thankful I was that it had lasted as long as it had.

Cooper decided to say a little something. You know, just about how much he loved blankie. How he didn't know how he could sleep without it. How it was his very dear friend who loved him, protected him.
On and on...
I felt worse and worse...

I am not going to pretend my eyes were dry through this. I was crying as much as he was. Cory looked at me and said, "this is worse than losing a dog."
It really was awful.

I explained to Cooper that as we grow and become the men and women we become, that life is really a series of letting-go's... He had to let blankie go. He gets that. But, it's not easy.

Cooper has a heart of gold. And a fierce loyalty to anyone or thing that he feels is special. Blankie was very dear to him. He had a really difficult time putting it in the box in the attic.
There were tears again at bedtime.
More tears the following night.
I'm not sure how long that will last, but my heart breaks every time.