The True Meaning Behind My Fluffy Socks.

Fluffy Socks. Two terms; a noun and its adjective. Socks being a pair, albeit two things that someone may rushingly slip on their feet at dawn, or thoughtlessly strip off at dusk. Fluffy meaning soft and pleasant to the touch. This is all that the phrase 'fluffy socks' means to the majority of people, but not to me. It is more than just this.

When faced with the expression 'fluffy socks', it precisely describes not only my personal means of survival, but the only consistent thing to exist within my life. In daytime and night, no matter the weather, no matter the Season, you are guaranteed to find me sporting my fluffy socks ; ask anyone. This attachment is unconditional. My parents, my friends and my wider family disregard this addictive relationship as being a force of habit; but I have always felt deeply that it is more than just this.

Like any addiction there was a root. On March 25th of 2010, somewhere in the foreign land of North America, the man that I had known for four years as Grandad crossed over into the unknown. Unable to comprehend the idea of death, life went on as usual for me, skipping and playing;  unaffected. It was only then in November that I came to understand that I would never race, play dolls with him or piggyback off of him ever again. That day I happened to receive the last birthday present he ever bought for me, a miscellaneous gift, wrapped horrendously and with no card attached.

After waiting for what I assume must have been at least 9 months, the most incredible, eye-opening pair of barbie pink fluffy socks were freed from their wrapping paper. Wearing them everyday that winter, my grandad's present helped me to combat the coldest winter of my life, without him ever knowing. The most random and unusual gift became the finest present I have ever received to this day. It was the beginning of a sentiment like no other.

Nobody truly notices the extent to which everybody possesses an item of comfort, whether it is a child's comfort blanket or a mother's inherited locket or ring. It is human nature to own such an item due to our automatic emotional necessity to feel calm, secure and loved constantly, and it shows that in times where this safety net is not present, your mind will automatically attach itself to a new item. In this case, it encaptured my fluffy socks.

Since then I have worn a pair of fluffy socks every day of my life, they accompany me on any adventure and support me through any battle. Clinging to my feet constantly soaking up my sweat and tears, enforcing reminiscence of brilliant times, but also woeful times; and forever inciting a gratifying serenity. A warm embrace I associate only with being sent by my grandad, in his militant nature completing his final mission. Intercepting a heart shattering first loss, and transforming it into my first initiative to notice the beauty in the little and seemingly most insignificant gifts of life.