The fog whispered to me, reminding me of the shear coldness and bleakness of the day. My two of my three children are running into the ocean’s wild blue waters only to dash back out immediately afterwards. Griffin, at five years old, always tries to prove himself stronger so he bears the frosty water one second longer. Lily is two and loves watching her brother be “tough.”

 After five minutes of this repetitive activity, the two retreat to the make-shift camp I set up, shivering in their suits. I hand them towels and some crackers, which are quickly gone. They sit with me, listening to me read The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss.

“Mommy, can we build a sand castle?”

“Sure! But you need to include you sister!” I always have to remind him of this because he doesn’t enjoy playing with others.

“Okay, I will”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay then, how about right over there?” I pointed some ten feet from our camp to a flat area.

“No, mommy! That’s not good spot! I’ll show you where’s a good spot.”

“Okay, but not too far!”

So we started off towards the water and about 25 feet to the right. I couldn’t believe I was following a five year old to his ideal spot, which ended up being very rocky.

Of course, I kept my comments to myself.

“Ok, Griffin, I’ll keep your toys up here so they don’t get lost. Make sure to include Lily in you castle building and don’t get Blankie too wet!”

“Ok, mommy. Lily, go over there and get two big rocks and a sea shell!” He yelled at her like he was the drill instructor at a boot camp and Lily was his next victim.

            “I grabbed on to Lily’s arm so she wouldn’t walk away. “What do you say?”

            “Please?”

            “Go ahead, Lily. But Griffin, be nice!”

            “Ok.”

I watched Griffin boss Lily around, despite what I had told him. I opened my book and started reading about Albert Einstein. I was maybe thirty pages into my book when I saw Lily running in that wobbly way of hers towards me.

            Oh no, Griffin’s being bossy again! I thought. Griffin had a knack for pushing Lily a little too hard.

            “Mommy! Mommy! Griffin… Blankie… ocean… get… told… tell… mommy” Lily said, breathing heavily from the twenty-five foot run.

            “Take a deep breath. Tell Mommy what’s wrong, Lily.”

            “Griffin go get Blankie.”

            “What do you mean, Lily?”

            “Blankie swim away!”

Oh my goodness! The tide must have swept Griffin’s sand castle and Blankie away! I told him not to bring it! Why did he have to bring it! An earlier conversation played in my mind. It was around ten o’clock this morning, just after everyone was dressed and had finished eating breakfast. I had just decided to take Lily and Griffin to the beach. Even though we live on the beach, it’s always hard to go with 6 month old Ruth.

            “But Maaaaameeeee! I want to bring him! He wants to watch!”

            “Look, if you bring Blankie he’ll just get dirty! We can leave him hear in the kitchen and he can see you guys play!”

            “But then he’d be lonely!”

            “Okay, daddy will keep him company! He’s right upstairs in the study!”

            “No! Blankie wants to come! He told me so!”

            “You can’t bring your bla-“

            “Not mine, Blankie”

            “You can’t bring Blankie everywhere! You’re already five! Five year olds don’t have blankies!”

            “Paaaaleeeeeeeseeeee”

            “Fine, but just this once. After we come home Blankie’s going on sabbatical.”

            “Yay!”

Now I regret the decision. Deep down I knew I would.

Run! Just go get him!!! I see his little head about thirty feet from where I’m standing. Then it’s gone.

“Lily, go get daddy, ok? Tell him Griffin’s in trouble.” I say sobbing.

“Ok, mommy.” Lily replies, unaware of what is happening.

She walks towards the house. I go in after Griffin figuring Lily would tell her dad the same story she told me.

The water was chill, but as soon as I realized Griffin was drowning it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. I couldn’t smell the salty air or feel the freezing water. I couldn’t feel the tears run down my face or hear myself screaming. I see a mass slowly sinking.

Thank goodness Griffin hates eating! He’s practically floating! I reach for Griffin. Only it’s not Griffin. It’s a piece of driftwood weighed down by Blankie. I grab Blankie and look over my pale shoulder to see Lily coming back, held in the arms of my husband. He sees me. I’m probably 40 feet offshore now. He points to a rock on the beach. A rock wearing the Thomas the Train swim shorts my son got for his birthday. People in red crowd around the rock. I feel myself smile then everything goes black.

“Honey! Honey! Wake up!”

“Mommy! Please wake up! I’m sorry I went to get Blankie! Please wake up!

Two male voices so familiar, yet so far away. Light hits my eyes me to wake up when Lily open the curtains. I was on our sofa and paramedics crowded our living room. Something was being pulled out of my hand.

Griffin I thought. I opened my hand and he fell to the floor.

“Ow, Mommy! I just wanted Blankie!”

There it was the tattered, soaking wet, ugly, dirty blankie that almost killed me and my son.