Fiction

The Blanket

by Tracy Nunes 
01/01/23
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Selena and Melanie sat in their mother’s living room in silence.  Even the faithfully chiming grandfather clock in the corner was hushed. That seemed appropriate for the grief that lay heavy on them and their childhood home.  It was a remnant of past generations, given to their mother, Eloise, from her mother, Lenora. Neither of the women could remember a time when the clock had not dependably chimed on every quarter hour.

“Strange, isn’t it? Being surrounded by Mama’s things without her being here?”

Melanie was sitting on the couch wrapped in her mother’s favorite lap blanket.  The one that was always either draped around her when she sat in her chair by the fireplace, or over the back of the chair, waiting for her to pick it up once again. Mama, sitting there enveloped by its red, velvety softness, her Bible in her lap, was an image that was forever sealed in Melanie’s mind.  As she sat there, the Bible sat on the side table untouched.

Selena, sitting across from her in their father’s recliner, was ousted from her quiet thoughts at Melanie’s question. 

“No, it doesn’t feel right, does it? Especially so close to Christmas.”

Speaking that out loud stirred a desire to hold her mama’s treasured Bible.  She picked it up and brought it back to her dad’s recliner, not yet ready to sit in mama’s chair. Opening it and seeing all the pages so filled with notes, prayers, and confessions released a new wave of grief and she once again sat silently as the tears coursed down her cheeks.  She wiped them when they reached her chin, not wanting to wet such a precious thing with her tears.  But as she gently flipped through the pages, she saw that many of them had what appeared to be tears that had already fallen and dried, leaving round crinkly spots to forever mark the page.

Melanie turned her eyes away from the scene in front of her, never understanding the way her mama and Selena obsessed over a book she could never understand.  Leaving Selena to her thoughts, Melanie fingered the words on her Mama’s blanket, caressing the softness, hoping to find comfort in it the way Mama did. Regret weighed on her heavier than the blanket. She loved her Mama and she knew her mama loved her because she had poured love on Melanie.  She could not deny that. A sudden flash of when Mama had poured ice water on her on a scorching hot day when Melanie was nine, making her shriek and laugh, brought a smile to her face despite the grief.  But there had always been something, some distance, that she couldn’t span.

As Melanie stroked the blanket, Selena took note of the scriptures that Mama had made the most notations on.  One, highlighted in pink with many dates written in the margins, was Luke 15:20 – “So he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son and threw his arms around him and kissed him.” The tear spots on the page marked its special meaning to her.

Selena new that Eloise had prayed unceasingly for Mel, as had she. But Mama’s passion had far surpassed her own. She peeked over at her sister who had now taken the blanket from her shoulders and laid it out on her lap, sadness and confusion shadowing her lovely face that looked so much like their mama. She secretly chuckled at that.  When they were little, she had resented Mel’s resemblance to their beautiful mother.  She had been sure God had made a big, big mistake in making her look like her father.  But her own twin boys, the spitting image of their kind grandfather, and a good amount of prayer, had laid that resentment to rest.

Mel began to silently read the gorgeous white script on the blanket, pausing while looking out the window to the backyard, and then repeating them.

Selena returned to the pages of the Bible, seeing her mother so clearly in both printed and written words that covered them.  One passage, indicated by a very old bookmark, drew her attention.  She smiled.  It was Mama’s favorite: Isaiah 9:6.

For unto us a child is born,

Unto us a Son is given;

And the government will be upon His shoulder,

And His name will be called

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

 She looked over at her sister who had begun to cry again.  Wanting to reach out to her, instead she waited and reread the passage, thinking that in many Christmases past, in the busyness, sparkle, and noise, she had lost sight of Him.  If only time could be rewound like a movie where one could stop, pause, and go back whenever you wanted.

 A sniffle from her sister drew her attention.  Selena waited.  Mel looked up at her sister and the stark pain on her face surprised Selena. She realized that Mel’s grief at their mother’s loss was even deeper than her own.

“Sis, can I have Mama’s blanket?”

 "Well, yes, of course.” At the slightly puzzled look on Selena’s face, Mel explained.

 “It’s just…it’s just. Well, it seemed like it gave her a lot of comfort.  She would lay her hands across it and caress it. Especially after she got sick.” Mel shook her head and laughed a bit.  “I know it sounds crazy but I think this blanket made Mama happy, you know? Something about it, I guess. Like it gave her peace.  I want that peace.”

 Quietly, Selena closed the Book, leaving her finger in the Isaiah passage.  She stood and crossed over to the couch where her sister sat.  Gently lifting Mel’s hand from one side, she sat down next to her sister and pulled the blanket over both of them, with the words on it spread out on their laps.

 “It’s a lovely blanket, Sis.  And you’re right, Mama loved it.  But it wasn’t the blanket that gave her peace.”  She cleared her throat and slowly read aloud the words on the blanket.

 “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” As she read the words her throat constricted, the last words spoken in a whisper.

 Then, she opened the Bible to that very chapter that Mama had loved so well and spent so many hours praying over.  She read aloud the whole chapter and let the words sink it. Selena reached for her sister’s hand.

 “Sis, it was the Prince of Peace that gave Mama peace.  Not a piece of cloth.  It was His words that soothed her heart and gave her joy, even when she was suffering. Even when she grieved over her prodigal daughter.”

 At that, Mel bristled and tried to pull her hand away, but Selena gently held on looking straight at her.  Mel recognized the determined glint in her sister’s eyes.  Her hand relaxed a bit and she let her sister hang on.

 With her free hand, Selena turned once again to Luke chapter 15 and read the entire passage.  She didn’t have to point out all the notations and prayers that their mother had made.  Mel saw it clearly as if the words and notes were backlit with a bright light.  Pulling the Book onto her own lap, Mel silently read the words of the passage and then the notes that her mama had made about her. It was as if her mama was there, pouring the words over her in love.  The tears flooded, and grief mixed with love and a dawning realization.

"Sis, instead of the blanket, can I have Mama’s Bible?  I won’t keep it forever.  I don’t know.  I guess…I just need to…understand it all.  Understand her.”  A quick sob erupted from her, “Understand Him.”

 Selena hesitated for a moment.  She didn’t want to give her sister the Bible.  Selena wanted it.  She had always wanted it. Because she loved the Word, she’d always assumed it would be hers. She began to tell Mel that she was asking too much.  But peace slowly flowed over her. All those prayers; this is what Mama would have wanted. 

 Tears of joy and surrender Selena said, “Yes, Sister.  You can have it.  And not just for a while.  You keep it.  I know that would have made Mama incredibly happy.”

 Mel reached for her sister and embraced with a strength that almost knocked the breath out of her but Selena fiercely hugged her back.  At the same moment, they both remembered a time when they were five and six and had fought over a book that they both wanted to read.  That fight had turned into a real “wrastle,” as their grandmother had called it.  Only Daddy was able to stop the flying fists.    

Mel started to chuckle and then Selena followed suit. They pulled apart and looked at each other, knowing that they were remembering the same thing.  Slow chuckles turned to loud laughs that lasted until they were out of breath.  Melanie reached for Selena’s hand.

 “Thank you, Sister,” she said, as she handed the blanket to Selena.  Selena looked at the blanket and knew that it had nothing to do with her mama’s peace.  But now it would be a treasured memory of both her mama and of the day her little sister stopped running.