Elise Skidmore

I never had a security blanket,
though my sister had a stuffed dog
that she kept with her
until its fur was gone
and the little bell in its ear
was so flat it couldn't jingle anymore.
When we finally got the real dog
she'd wanted for years,
it stretched out in her bed
and replaced her old stuffed friend.


When my husband was very small
he had a favorite blanket.
My mother-in-law told stories
of him holding the corner
as it dried on the clothesline.
It always made me smile
and wish I'd known him when
he was a little boy.


Both of my daughters
had security loveys--
one had a blanket like her father
that she called “my soft”.
We were lucky to have two of them,
exactly the same,
so there was no drama
on laundry days.


My other daughter had
little stuffed bunnies,
not exactly the same,
one was a girl and
one was a boy,
but they were close enough
to be interchangeable.
The “home bunny” and “travel bunny”
were a godsend that saved us
from many a sleepless night.


But I always slept alone.
Until I got married
there was only me in my bed.
I've wondered about that often.
I'm not a very confident person,
in fact my personal insecurities
have forced me into a
lifelong battle with shyness.
So why didn't I cling to
a blanket or a bunny?
Did I know on some level
that they offered no security at all?
Maybe instinct told me to feel secure,
I needed someone
who would hug me in return.


All these years later,
I still do.

~Elise Skidmore ©2020