When my dad died last July, I had the task of going through my childhood home and deciding what to keep and what to let go. Someone wisely told me that if I had any doubts about something, I needed to keep it and decide what to do with it at another time. I’m so glad that I listened to that advice (for once) and hung on to a lot of stuff that when I was in the moment, stressed, tired, overwhelmed and sad, I wanted to just get rid of, to have this job over and done with. Again, I’m so grateful I listened and here’s why:
Since I’ve been on leave from work, I made a pact with myself to go through at least one box a day, taking my time and really thinking about what I needed to do. Again, when in the moment, I hated every bit of the stuff I had to deal with and didn’t care if I never saw it again; giving myself some time and space, with a small, doable goal, made all the difference in the world. I rediscovered several framed needleworks, crewel, cross stitch and needlepoint, crocheted afghans, bedspreads and tablecloths and wonder of wonders, the cowgirl outfit my grandma sent me one year (can’t remember if it was Christmas or my birthday) that I was absolutely wild for. It’s been folded up in a drawer for I don’t know how many years, I think I was around five or six when she sent it and I’m on the downhill side of 55 now. You do the math. It’s in amazing shape, except for creases and wrinkles, and is unfaded, a bright turquoise with white fringe and still shiny, sequined butterflies. Now I have dreams of my grands wearing it and that makes me happy and misty eyed, with a little bit of nostalgia and feeling old mixed in. Lesson learned: Second looks sometimes reveal treasures, you never know.
Loving the white piping and the pearly snaps.
Love is a canvas furnished by Nature and embroidered by imagination. Voltaire