I’d always wonder how it would feel if I didn’t have my afghan blanket. 

The periwinkles and the beautiful off white colors accentuate my room so well. 

My grandma made me that afghan. 

The afghan that has been with me throughout my adolescence. 

If it could talk it would tell me how proud it is of me. 

Almost just like how my grandma tells me that all the time. 

When I was little I begged my grandma for an afghan as she made everyone in the family one.

I would tell her the colors I wanted and she worked her heart out making it for me.

My grandma gave it to me on Christmas morning of my 7th grade year. 

Opening the blanket was a thrill.

I remember how the blanket made me feel like I was the most loved person on the planet. 

Oh, how long it took my grandma as she knitted my blanket with her love. 

I never knew how much that blanket would go through with me.

That blanket was with me through my first real heartbreak. 

Telling me through the knittings of the blanket that everything was going to be okay.

My blanket is my shield as it holds me through times of despair.

It gives me a warm hug once I come home after a long day.

My blanket no matter where I go will always be my grandma 

Telling me everything will be okay

Telling me she loves me