Greeny was my security blanket. I had this blanket until I was twelve. On my birthday, I took three or four girls to my grandparents’ cottage for a weekend sleep over. I brought Greeny. By that time, Greeny had dwindled from it’s once full twin bed blanket size to about maybe a large hand towel. It wasn’t that conspicuous and I didn’t by any means flaunt the fact that I was almost a teenager with a blankey.

When the sleep over ended, and we all went home, I couldn’t find Greeny anywhere. I searched and fretted and finally asked my mom if she had seen it. Her nonchalant response: “We burned Greeny”. I laughed politely and said, “No, seriously, where’s Greeny”. She told me that Nona (my grandmother) and she had decided that I was too old for a blanket, so they burned it the fireplace at Pine Lake (the cottage).

Wha?!

I’m really grateful to my mom that she had me. Really I am. She struggled through two miscarriages and a pregnancy with me that had her on full time bed rest for the seven months that I would stay inside. Some women are not cut out to be moms. And although I love my mom, and am happy as a clam to be alive…..she is one of those women.

If I had a child that felt the need to keep a security blanket at twelve, I would A) try to figure out where the insecurity and fear was coming from and try to comfort and strengthen my child in a healthy and nurturing way, or B) Tell my child that one of the only small comforts and stabilities that she had was purposely burned up by the most important adult figure in her life.

I can laugh about it…….now.

A few years ago, I was asked to help my friend Pam clean out her parent’s mobile home. Her mom had a stroke and needed to be able to maneuver a wheel chair around the space. Pam’s mom had a huge problem with throwing things away. I’m sure there’s a name for the psychological disorder, but I’ll just say packratism to an outlandish proportion. The entire mobile home was packed to the ceiling with junk. There was a small path through the high piled, precarious, clutter leading to important places like the bed, couch and refrigerator. We spent two full weekend days, pulling stuff out, tossing what we could get away with and boxing other stuff and hauling it to the storage space that her parent’s had rented.

While I was going through the piles of stuffed animals, broken wooden unrecognizable things and various mountains of dollar store purchases, I came across a package of great interest to me. I found two brand new, unopened packages of…..GREENY! The exact blanket from my youth in pristine condition. My hands were shaking when I asked Pam if I could keep them. She said, “sure”, thinking that I just needed a couple of blankets for my bed.

That was about eight years ago. I have Greeny on my bed right now. I am thirty four years old, and sometimes when I’m feeling low, I wrap my blankey around my head and inhale deeply. It may be neurotic, but it helps. I dyed one of the “Greenies” maroon, to match my bedding, to even further disguise the fact that I may not be entirely well. The other is still in it’s pristine white state to take over when it’s counterpart is worn down to the size of a hand towel.