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.
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.