Every Child Deserves a Blanket...
Along our manufacturing journey, we have been honored to donate BlanketPals™ to Children that Just Need a Blanket. We have yet to donate a large number of BlanketPals™ but each donation has been deeply meaningful, as well as humbling.
Without revealing any information that can be used to identify any family or individual, we will (in part) use this blog to memorialize some of the emotional elements in connection to our donations; donations made possible with kindness from friends, family and former colleagues.
Sadly, the painful causes behind these events cannot ever be undone but they mustn’t be overlooked. Moreover, we are hopeful that they might serve to provide pause for reflection and spur random acts of kindness; the very same kindness that our family is so very grateful for.
The first BlanketPals™ donation was handmade and included a separate larger than life toadstool. The child’s father had sadly passed away before receiving her BlanketPal™ covered in embroidered flowers and butterfly appliques; and I hand stitched a bag to make the gift more special. The toadstool was not just over-sized but also made with a removable pillow top, hollow stem for pajamas, and a secret door for stuffed animals to enter and exit. The picture attached to this blogpost is similar in form and feel.
My battle with suicidal and intrusive thoughts was reaching a screaming crescendo, an all too often experience of many that suffer after brain injuries, and as dramatically but accurately portrayed in the movie Concussion, with careful emphasis added to point out that every brain injury is unique in its outcome.
The unfairness of this family’s loss stirred painful anguish within me. I questioned the cruelty of my survival juxtaposed against the theft of life from this little girl’s daddy’s, a man that was in his prime, successful, and kind. A man that exemplified the proverbial base of a joyous mountain upon which his wife and young daughter could faithfully rest and reach ever higher, assured of his fidelity to their wellbeing.
I understood that I could do nothing to undo the pain of that little girl and her most amazing mommy. I understood that my struggle and my job was to preserve my singular chance at life, so that I could remain for my young children, wife and family.
However, the words of that little girl’s mommy are what I cling to – even today. “If my daughter had your blanket, she could have played on her daddy’s lap in the hospital before he passed away.” These words, in great part, are what have kept me alive for my children and wife, in addition to the kindness shown to me by my parents and closest circle of family and friends; and even extending to the many people that I admire on Facebook that continue to persevere through their own struggles.