Wrapped Up In You

I remember the bed arriving. We put it in the office because we knew you would be to weak to get up the stairs. The hospital bed had side rails and we put our sheet set on it. We finished the bed off with a maroon blanket.  I remember thinking it was important to show the maroon side since the opposing side was pink and although with 3 daughters you always said your favorite color was pink I knew you didn't mean it. When the visiting hospice nurses and Nana would check you, they would soon after recover you with the blanket. They would pull it to your chest and fold it at the edges. My last memory of you is wrapped up in this material. Before this time I never would have guessed this blanket would be the one I would see my father draped in as he took his last breathe...

This past Sunday we went to the park. I took the blanket from the back of the car folded eight times and with one swoop of my arms overhead the blanket unfolded and drifted to the ground, maroon side up of course. My family sat upon the blanket. The first to sit was me and the baby boy I am carrying your 2nd grandson. Next your grandson Benjamin came toddeling over and sat down excited to be experiencing all of this for the first time. Lastly my husband and dog joined us and there we were as a family on a sea of grass all together on this square of material, your square of material. We talked, we laughed and I remembered you.

I like to think you are always with me but this day was different. As I sat thinking about you, about the way you looked when I last saw you and what you would think about my family. I found a sense of peace in knowing you were watching all of us. I found a sense of happiness knowing that I still feel so connected to you and I felt sadness as I recalled the hospital bed and your last breathe. Now looking back on this moment again, sitting on the maroon blanket with a pink underside, I can't help but be grateful to still be able to be so wrapped up... in you.