I read on someone’s blog the other day (sorry, I can’t remember whose blog to give credit, this week has been a blur) about how they received their very first sweater that was handmade just for them. And it brought back memories of the many sweaters, mittens, hats, afghans and dollclothes that were made for me back in the day. Back before handmade was the latest trend.
The lady responsible for all that fantastic knitting and sewing is going into hospice care. I think of her as a Grandma, and have always called her that, although we aren’t actually related. When my maternal grandmother died when I was in high school, Grandma B. was the only Grandma that I had left. I’m sorry to say that in later years, I didn’t make the effort to go and see her very much, and since I’ve been married, the Army has seen to it that I haven’t lived nearby in more than a decade.
Over the past few days I have been trying to decide what to do. Of course, I would like to go home. It’s just the millions of little things that are my life here get in the way. Oh and that money thing. And I feel more than a little guilty for even pausing, because in the big scheme of things isn’t it more important to say goodbye?
I feel like I owe her at least that, for all the graduations, Grandparents’ Days and recitals that she went to for me. I just hope I can make it happen before I run out of time.