True Love

When Alyssa was born, my mom made her a simple quilt. She used the blanket, along with many others, but it was a soft baby doll to which she became devoted. Natalie came along four years later and inherited Alyssa's collection of baby blankets and for whatever reason, took a particular liking the quilt my mom had made.

Natalie soothed herself to sleep by rubbing the corners between her thumb and middle finger. There is a specific method to her corner-rubbing which she has tried to explain to me on more than one occasion. I can't seem to master the exact techique. But it has worked for her.

She rubbed the corners until they no longer existed. Once the corners disinegrated, the threads on the edges started to give way. Her one true love is now being held together by two small stitches, its innards exposed. But, as they say, love is blind.

She drags it, trailing behind her, everywhere she goes...

Looking through one of the used-to-be corners.

Peeking past the few remaining stitches.

We've attempted to convince Natalie that the blankie has reached the end of its life. But she is no where near ready to part with it and has placed all her faith in our talented, seamstress neighbor. She believes her love can be resuscitated.

Who am I to deny her that hope?