It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I had a security blanket...okay two blankets, well into my twenties. The only reason I don't have them now is because they got thrown away in a hospital dumpster one very sad Sunday. Don't worry--I asked my psych. professor in college if my sleeping with my blankets said anything bad about me--he said no. :)
So needless to say when Tate fell in love with a little 6 x 6 in. piece of fleece lined with satin, I totally understood. This little blanket became affectionately known as "Mammy" to Tate. "Mammy" has been Tate's ultimate source of comfort now for over a year...
We lost "Mammy" today. I backtracked all of our steps, asked store managers, checked lost and founds..."Mammy" is gone. Once back in the car heading home Tate uttered the word I was most dreading. With his paci in and heavy eyes he asked, "Mammy??" With tears in my eyes (ok maybe closer to sobbing) I looked and said "Tate, we don't have Mammy. Mammy is gone." He asked a few more times before drifting off to sleep.
I attempted a replacement. I knew the chances were slim---nothing could replace my blankets either. The little lion from Ross failed.
My heart is sad. Sad because I know his little heart was confused--he always has Mammy...to sleep, when he cries, when he is mad---it provides comfort that no one and nothing else can. Nothing else feels the same held up against his cheek...I know. I know because I have felt it. Bless his little heart. Tonight he asked for it once and I reminded him that Mammy was gone. He didn't cry for it---I truly believe this is the sweet mercy of Jesus.
I am writing because I know how time flies. And I know that these first two years of Tate's life will soon become vague memories pieced together...and the importance of Mammy will become lost with time. I want to remember---how thankful I have been for Mammy. It has helped me help Tate when nothing else could. I could rely on Mammy always to dry tears or help sleep.
I also feel guilty. As Tate's protector I failed him today. As silly as it seems, I feel responsible for his confusion and feelings of loss. This breaks my heart.
He will be okay. I will be okay. We will move on. It is just sad.
