I held my blanket up to my face. I poked my fingers through the many holes as I was filled with swell. “Thank you,” I said looking up at the ceiling. “You’re welcome,” I heard.
My heart wasn’t on my bed anymore, it floated up, up, up, and now we were side by side in paradise.
I never knew my great grandma, but I imagine she was amazing. She made me a blanket when I was born, and I still have it to this day. It’s a small blanket that has outgrown me, but I don’t mind. Colors glide through it as a rainbow, It was knitted in a way that you can stick your fingers through it, as if they’re little mole coming out of a field a rainbow landed on. I love it.
I talk to her, asking her questions and marveling at her interpretation of heaven, but yet the next morning I can’t pin-point what she said, all I know is that one day I’ll be able to embrace her and truly be with her.
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