All Covered Up

If you take a drive around the city of Austin, it is easy to see that the roadways are extremely congested. Admittedly, I get a little antsy at times when I am stuck in traffic or caught in a line of cars that seem to be moving at a snail’s pace. However, when I am in this crazy jammed-packed situation, I have come to realize that even though I do feel a slight frustration at the inability to do much about the delays; more than anything else, I find myself feeling rather grateful. I am ever so grateful that I am not a parent in a car with tired, hungry, screaming children and stuck on a freeway. I am eternally grateful that I am not a child in a car with a frazzled, short-fused parent who is ready to get home and can’t move in any direction. And, most of all, I figure that I should be forever grateful that this crowded situation has reminded me of a way that I could easily make a million dollars. My family has a custom that will help to alleviate problems that occur while stuck in a car with kids in stalled traffic, or any number of situations in life that call for instant calm. I figure if I can just market this item that provides a sweet lull of peacefulness for kids and parents alike, then I will have that easy million. I know that everyone in Austin will come to believe in this convention. Then, when the rest of the world discovers the secret, just watch out! Let me introduce you to habit forming, peace-building, tear-drying, smile-inducing softies.

My mother’s mother died when my mother was three years old. Mom was an only child and after her mother’s death she was raised by her father and her aunts. She readily admits that she was doted on by everyone that knew her. One of the things mom recalls giving her immense comfort during her growing up years was the satin blanket one of her aunts made for her. Her softie. It went everywhere with her. She could not fall asleep without the security of the soft satin next to her in bed. Although it did not take the place of her mother, something as small as this blanket made especially for her provided comfort and solace when it was so desperately needed. The mere contact with the softness produced instant warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature. Little did mom know that she would again be saved by her softie later in her life. How could she have realized that “Noni’s softies” would soon provide this comfort to literally hundreds of people?

My mom started making softies herself when Grace and Sallie were young. I know that she was probably kicking herself when she discovered how effective the softies were for her two youngest children. It must have been a little like the “I could have had a V-8” insight…..too late to do much about the oversight now! She discovered that when the girls had their softies, they also had their smiles. When they had their softies, the dark was not so scary. When they had their softies, they loved to be held and cuddled. When they had their softies, the world was just a better place. Because the world was a better place for the girls, the world was also a better place for everyone else around the girls. Thus, the softie effect was magnified to include anyone that was associated with the one actually enjoying the softie. Both of the girls still have their original softies today. Of course, they are in shreds and I am sure if someone touched them they would disintegrate, but don’t try to get rid of them! Since the first softies were manufactured on the big family table, many more have been made. They have become tradition. Each time a baby is born, a softie is made. Every single grandchild and great-grandchild has a softie made by Noni. The baby softies are made in a smaller size and it is a rite of passage when you get your adult sized softie. Every one of mom’s eleven kids has a Noni-made softie and as far as I know not one of us can sleep without it. The colors of the softies are significant. One of life’s major decisions is the color of your softie. In some way I am convinced that the color affects how well you sleep. Every in-law has had to select a color for their softie for each of them has a softie as well. In fact, people who might have been in-laws have softies. Further, those who we knew would probably never be in-laws have softies. In reality, there are people now who don’t even know my family who have satin blankets that they call softies.

When my girls were in middle school and high school, many of their friends insisted on acquiring a softie. So, as my mother taught me, I taught my girls how to sew a softie. They learned to make these comforters for their friends. Kids would come over, the table would be extended, and another softie was completed. At this point, people outside of our family were getting hooked on the comfort of this Swanson custom. The kids would make softies for their boyfriends; they would give them as Christmas gifts, for “going away” presents, and just because someone wanted one. If their friends were sick, they got a softie. Then, friends started making softies and the domino effect was in place. They got so popular that the clerk in the fabric store would give instructions on “how to make a softie” each time someone came in for 5 yards of satin. Adults were calling our house to ask what a softie was because that is the only thing ‘so and so’ wanted for graduation. I often wondered if some of the boys that dated my daughters did so just to acquire their own softie. Sometimes the kids and even adults in the family would put a slight twist on softies integrating their own special designs. There were softies made of flannel, two color softies, softies sporting the colors of favorite teams, double sized softies, monogrammed softies, and those with and without ribbons. My kids often requested new softies before theirs had been completely worn out, so our house runneth over with these blankets. James always built softie closets into our houses. I often wondered if the realtor knew that there was a good chance a buyer would probably actually know what a softie closet was and would even appreciate its existence!

Because softies were given to newborns and the newborns continued to drag them around as toddlers, the name “softie” was often altered a bit by the speech of the little ones. Some families referred to them as “saucies”. My sweet grandson today asks for his “dossie”. I have heard them referred to as “saws-saws” and so on. A dossie can calm a child in a second. A saucie will instill peace inside a car that is in complete chaos. A softie will relax a grown up enough to promote a sound sleep when it is otherwise elusive. And, in addition, a softie has often provided other purposes besides its warmth and security. My niece Heidi takes her softie with her when she goes to see a movie. She says it just goes with the smell of popcorn and makes the whole movie better. My kids and their cousins would build softie forts that would cover an entire room. Hours of entertainment with satin. James would make our kids (and grandkids) squeal with laughter by giving softie rides. He would have as many kids as possible pile on a softie, and then run through the house dragging the kid-laden softie on the floor, often swinging it in every direction. The last child hanging on would be the softie champ for the evening. My kids did not ever really have to make up their beds because they would spread a softie out over their bedspread, lay down on that softie, and cover up with another softie. They were happiest and most content when their skin was touching only satin. I just recently became aware that softies could actually be knotted together and would hold a teenager as they dropped from a window if tied just right. I also learned that it took practice to make a strong softie knot. Softies came in really handy during the winter months when James was hesitant to turn up the thermostat. The kids would each take turns holding their softies in front of the fireplace to get them nice and toasty, and then dive to the floor to roll up in the blessed warmth of the freshly heated blanket. During holidays when the family would gather it did not matter that room was scarce. At night time, a softie pallet would be laid on the floor from wall to wall and everyone left without a bed would crash on the floor for a good night’s sleep. Bodies of all ages and sizes were snuggled against each other and wrapped in a softie. At Sunday lunch it was not uncommon for a softie to be used as the tablecloth on the children’s table. Even there it brought about calm. It also soaked up spilled food. Thank goodness softies are washable. Many times Emily would patiently wait by the washer and then the dryer for her softie to be ready to go again. When my nephew Bubba was in intensive care in the hospital for three weeks, he would have a recurring dream that he was a human burrito all wrapped up in a softie. The nurses that took care of him in ICU knew the softie story. They never let the special blanket stray far from their patient and each ended up with their own softie made especially for them. I know that when more and more people experience “Noni’s softies”, the uses will be boundless. I also know that the world will be a happier place.

Right now as I attempt to explain the significance of the role that softies played in the lives of my kids, the most vivid picture comes into my mind. It is a picture that forces a smile from me even when my heart is heavy. It is a picture that makes me grab a softie, curl up, close my eyes and remember when James was next to me. I see my sweet husband determined to master yet another task. He was resolute in his quest to make a softie. A softie just for me. Mine was worn out and he heard me say that I needed a new one. Softies were made with 5 yards of satin. Two and a half yards of the satin are spread out and topped with a polyester batting. The remaining two and a half yards are then folded over to encase the batting. The softie must be carefully pinned together folding in all of the edges. It takes long straight pins to fasten the edges and they must be placed closely together. Because of this, the softie maker is stabbed quite often. You must be a strong person to be able to produce a softie and quite agile not to get blood from the pin pricks on the softie. After the pins are in place, with a large darning needle, yarn is then tacked every 8-10 inches through all of the layers of the blanket. This takes forever and this task also inflicts a little pain. I guess it is true that everything worthwhile in life is not easily come by. Now, the edges of the softie are ready to be stitched on the sewing machine. It is at this point of the softie production that I have my picture of James. Pins protruding from his lips (where he is keeping them handy) and mounds of pink satin flowing in all directions. He knows the feeling that a new softie brings and cannot wait to deliver his prize to me. Here is this strong, obviously outdoorsy man, sitting at the table in the house that he constructed entirely by himself, surrounded by the furniture that he built just because he could, pushing the foot of a sewing machine to make me a pink softie. I am pretty sure that it was my favorite softie ever.

Just last week Noni, the “Queen of Softies”, went on a road trip with my sister and brother and their spouses. They drove from Durango, Colorado, to Seattle Washington. Because there is no age limit on softie use, and in spite of limited room; all passengers in the van were permitted to bring their softie along on the trip. Noni had her place in the back of the van. There, she wrapped up in her blue softie, propped up her feet, and read her book in between receiving phone calls from all of her kids. At one point in the trip, Cookie had to make a sharp, quick turn. Because Noni was completely wrapped in her softie, and because the material is so slippery, Noni slid right off of her perch in the back and into the floor board of the van! The more she struggled to get up, the deeper she wedged herself between the seats. The softie made it really difficult to get a firm grip to pull Noni up and I am quite sure the laughter did not help either. It is a good thing that when the situation was corrected, and Noni was again in the back of the van in a normal position, she had her softie with her for extra comfort! It seems that no matter the age, the softie softens most situations. I am 50 years old, and I have to admit that in the last two years, I have worn out my pink softie. I call upon it quite regularly for the comfort and security that it unfailingly provides. I guess I could just quit my job as an educator and become a maker of softies. Perhaps I really could become a millionaire from the phenomenon that would be created by marketing the multi-faceted softie. Or, maybe we should just make a softie bomb. How cool would it be to drop softies of all colors from fighter jets positioned all over the world? Noni’s softies, made with love and sweetly stitched, spread worldwide. Can you hear the hush? Can you feel the peace? Can you see the smiles? The world all covered up in a giant softie. That picture alone is worth millions.