Writing Prompt: Think of an article of clothing your mother used to wear. How did it look, smell, make you feel? Write about your memories and emotions stemming from that article of clothing.

During my youth, in the early 1970s, my mother used to wear a light blue, silk nightgown. When she wore it to bed, I would snuggle up against her, nuzzle my face against her breast and stroke the lustrous fabric. Eventually, my mother gave me her nightgown and it became my childhood blankie and shield against a troubled childhood. For years I carried it everywhere and slept with it every night. I called it my “mog-gee.”

I was a rather sad and lonely child of parents who divorced when I was just a toddler due to my father’s multiple indiscretions. There were many nights, when I awoke to hear my depressed, bi-polar, single mother crying in her room. I would take her my beloved mog-gee to try and comfort her.

Over time, my cherished blankie became filthy and flimsy and eventually turned to shreds. I took that silk nightgown with me to the grocery store, out to restaurants and to play at the park. Sometimes, the silk nightie garnered some strange looks from passersby, but my mother didn’t care; she knew how much I loved the nightgown and how much comfort it provided me.

Years later, after suffering through five years of infertility, I ended up becoming a mother of twins. As they grew out of infancy and their adorable matching onesies, I couldn’t bear to part with their tiny baby clothes. I’m not much of a seamstress but I set out to create sentimental blankets for my twins. I cut large rectangles from the soft, fleece bathrobe, which I wore during endless middle-of-the-night feedings, diaper changes and cuddles during the twins’ first year. Then, I added bits and pieces of their outgrown baby clothes—an embroidered elephant, butterfly and flower patches, scraps of matching twins’ outfits (in blue and pink) and the trim (painted with giraffes) from their newborn hospital caps.

Just as I did with my beloved mog-gee, my children took their blankets with them everywhere. I spent countless hours searching the house for their blankets, as my son especially, refused to sleep without his “softie.” As my twins grew and no longer needed late-night snuggles, it gave me comfort to know they were safely tucked under pieces of my bathrobe (which just so happened to be light blue—just like my mother’s silk nightgown).