Irreplaceable

I kind of think that I am like most people. Most people have favorite things. Attachments that are hard to let go or leave behind. It seems so superficial to love something that can be replaced. When I am trying to convince myself that I can replace these beloved "things", I find myself convinced that they are irreplaceable.

My mother made me an orange, twin sized quilt when I was a small child. It has brown yarn tied throughout the blanket. There is a slight tear in the right corner of the quilt. The stuffing is barely there and the blanket is made up of mostly two pieces of worn cloth stitched together on all sides. My orange, twin sized quilt is one of my most prized possessions. It is a comfort to me when I am sick. It is what I reach for when I need warmth. I have been toying with the idea of storing my quilt to ensure that it is forever with me. My mother even gave me a replacement quilt that she had made for her bed. It is orange and made of the same material, but it isn't quite the same. It isn't worn in all the right places. I don't see myself giving my orange, twin sized quilt up to the vacuum sealing bags just yet.