The Blanket

When I was cleaning long over due places,
I found your old blanket today.
Stored out of view, in an out of sight space,
So as not to remind of your passing away.

I had almost forgotten all about this old cover,
Hand knitted with red, white and blue.
If it weren’t for my older and wiser big brother,
I would have long ago bid it adieu.

For I thought years ago, it would never be something,
I could look at again without tears.
Let alone be anything, ever found comforting,
Even if time does heal with years.

Yet, lo and behold my big brother was right,
(And that’s not something I often admit.)
For when I found it today, I held it so tight,
Your old, soft, red, white and blue blanket.

For just a brief moment I could picture you here,
In your bed, in my home, as we spoke.
Vivid stories rushed in and yes, so did tears,
But I also heard laughter and jokes. 

While the one vision I saw still cut like a knife,
Of this blanket so neatly spread out,
Over you on a bed, laying void of all life,
Still, I suddenly knew beyond doubt –

That this blanket I thought only reminiscent of sorrow,
Was woven with more joy than pain.
Full of yesterday’s comfort and warmth for tomorrow,
Bringing more memories of sunshine than rain.

To think I almost gave your blanket away, Dad?
This treasure left to help me transcend.
A reminder from you to take the good with the bad,
To see the big picture and not just the end.


7 Comments to “The Blanket”

  1. It is often in the actions we would normally not take that make me wonder… the photograph taken… a meaning less/full momento… a letter never sent… I too have lost my father… I can understand. The blanket sounds lovely, may it comfort you…

    A very wise reminder “To see the big picture and not just the end.”

  2. I stop by to admired you art.
    Love and light

  3. enreal –
    thank you, and I saw some of what you wrote about your father on your blog… so, I know you can understand. that, perhaps, is the one good thing about losing somoene special – it helps us relate with and comfort others who have gone thru the same…

    thank you. =)

    thanks for visisting… your “love and light” brightens everything in it’s path and wake.. =)

  4. this one of yours has been a timely comfort in a way you would not have expected but i give you all the credit and thanks for anyway, and has at the same time difficult for me to make it through enough times to feel settled enough to pass that thanks along, for a little blanket i had been learning to knit on, until just recently

    again thank you for expressing this so well and for sharing it with us

  5. Note; comment accidentally left in wrong space over at:, she wrote:

    Cheryl McNulty Said:
    on 2010/03/08 at 8:56 am

    wow, this sounds like me and my father’s flannel shirt I still have and will never throw away! I hold it sometimes like he’s hugging me. I swear I can still smell him there! Thanks! :)

    And my response there:

    Samantha Said:
    on 2010/03/23 at 7:07 am ·

    Hi Cheryl,
    If I knew how to movve your comment to the other poem, I would.. maybe, I’ll just mention it there and link to here.

    ANd, I know what you mean about the shirt. It’s nice to have real life reminders… however bitter-sweet they are. As mentioned in the “Empty Spaces” poem (, I always thought that time helps us see the sweet, more than the bitter… but, I don’t know if that ever really happens. Probably not. And, probably rightfully so..

    What comforts me the most when I miss my dad, is realizing how lucky I was to have had him in at all… and, knowing that he would not want me to be sad and depressed – but would rather I remember him with a smile…

    ~ smj


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