Yesterday our good friends, George and Cheri, dropped by with a card that had that quote on the front. And yesterday I actually
lived that quote. On Sunday, I posted about
remembering our grandson, Caleb, who was born six years ago on March 13. Actually, March 16 is the day that is always the hardest on me, for that is the day, six years ago, we all had to let him go. When all we wanted to do was hold on.
Shortly after he passed away, Mark and I found a garden statue of a little boy in overalls. I think he was supposed have water coming out of the little hose he was holding. Instead we had a brick base built and had him permanently cemented to the base, in a little area by our front door. (Note: We live in California. Things can tend to "walk" away if you don't take precautions.)
So every year on March 13 we get a balloon and tie it to our little boy.
And every year on March 16 we release it. I hope you won't get all "environmental" on me. The other days of the year I
do care about the potential outcome of balloons released into the sky. On March 16th, I simply.do.not.care about the environment at large. It's all I can do to take care of the environment of my heart.
Mark and I had a quiet dinner together.
Then I went into my sewing room, cleaned and organized it, took apart my sewing machine, brushed out all the lint from machine quilting Levi's quilt all weekend, put in a new needle, wound some bobbins, threaded my machine, and started working on Pop Beads.
Have you noticed how working with beautiful fabric, making something with your hands, something real, something you can touch, is good for the soul? Thank you, my friends, for surrounding me, encouraging me, inspiring me. It may seem odd to some that you could feel such a close connection with women you have never met. It doesn't seem odd to me at all.
