We're coming up on Christmas again, Number 8 since Margret left us.
It took me over a year to figure out what to do to honor her memory, her generosity, her love of kids, my love of her; and to make me feel like I was doing something worthwhile in her name. Turns out my love of crochet comes in handy for this. Making hats for Valley Youth House: for kids, something worthwhile, and it would please Margret.
The first year I made hats for Valley Youth House, there were 16 hats. That was 2010.
This year there are 132 hats, 8 of them with matching scarves, 2 baby blankets (with matching hats for 0-3 months, 6-12 mos, and toddler sizes, which are not counted in the hat total), a lap robe/snuggle blanket, and I made some earrings this year too. I used making earrings to unwind from the stresses of daily life of a caregiver, and as small gifts for friends and family.
Have a look to see what I made this year:
Stack of Crochet Stuff
Scarves and matching hats
One of the baby blankets with matching hats
Earrings added this year
Let's see what I can do to make this coming year notable and worthwhile.
Here you will find rambling memories of my daughter Margret's life, plus other bits of this and that of interest to me.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Saturday, July 16, 2016
Hard to believe that it has been eight years, I think of her so often.
Several days ago we had a fierce thunderstorm. I stood out on the porch and watched the rain bucket down, watched the lightning flashes and counted to the BOOM! I was also remembering my daughters and me sitting on the porch wrapped in a blanket to keep the wind and rain out, watching another fierce thunderstorm and talking about Margret who had just passed away.
Sometimes when I come in, the front door doesn't close all the way, and a gust of wind will push it open. I find myself saying, "Come on in, Margret." Yes, I'm silly.
Several days ago we had a fierce thunderstorm. I stood out on the porch and watched the rain bucket down, watched the lightning flashes and counted to the BOOM! I was also remembering my daughters and me sitting on the porch wrapped in a blanket to keep the wind and rain out, watching another fierce thunderstorm and talking about Margret who had just passed away.
Sometimes when I come in, the front door doesn't close all the way, and a gust of wind will push it open. I find myself saying, "Come on in, Margret." Yes, I'm silly.
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