I had a friend who did a lot of hand applique work on her quilts. She said she had time to do it as she sat with her husband who liked to watch crime dramas. I cross stitch in the room with the boys as they watch football. There has been a lot of football this winter.
I am also making a baby quilt to hug our grandson when I can’t be with him.
It’s time to go shopping for frames for these tiny cross stitch projects. These are not gifts this time, but I am making them for our house. I would like to create a gallery in the narrow, framed-in panels of our stairwell.
I am getting pretty close to finishing this little project, which is based on a very famous painting. I know what it will look like when it’s finished, but it’s still a mystery to me how this is all going to come together. What a metaphor for my life.
I planning for a few months of ward conferences, so despite winter telling me to rest, I have a very full season ahead. My first counselor, on whom I depend so much, is carefully watching over her husband in his final days on earth. These years of serving in our stake callings have not shielded us from life’s challenges. My second counselor Susan passed away suddenly in 2022. Among the women in my presidency, which have changed over time, we have faced milestones along with the challenges. We’ve sent 5 missionaries into the world, had 3 children get married, and had 1 grandchild and one great-grandchild born. We have led during a pandemic and experienced two major surgeries with long recoveries. And now, my counselor’s husband is in hospice care.
There are some challenging days ahead, but if I have learned anything through my service, it is that my Heavenly Father will give me the strength to do what he has called me to do. He is doing the same for my presidency and for you.
We are in a very full season of life with so much going on and so many things I could share, but I can’t seem to sort these things into words.
Wishing you the best,
-A
I’m not producing these projects as often, but I try to keep one on the embroidery hoop to work on when I feel like sewing. I have many more patterns waiting, and perhaps DaVinci or Michaelangelo will be next. Each time I make Van Gogh’s Sunflowers for myself, I end up giving it away. I think I’ll make the Sunflowers again…and keep it this time.
Who would have thought there were so many things in the world which I do not want! That happiness consisted in not having many, but in needing the fewest things.
Thomas Traherne, Centuries of Meditations
Richard, Mark, and I sat down together and made a list of the things we wanted to do this month under the categories of service, fun, and films. Then we plugged everything into the calendar. We should probably do this every month, but we only think to do it at Christmas time. Now we have a plan, and there is so much to look forward to!
There won’t be time to cross stitch until after Christmas, but I am glad for the hours these “miniature masterpieces” have provided to reset my mind during a very busy year.
Sometime during the pandemic, Richard and I watched a movie about Vincent Van Gogh. I don’t remember the name of the film, but William Dafoe was the actor who played Van Gogh. I learned in the film that I have mispronounced his last name all my life, that the light in southern France is magical for painting, and that his paintings were not popular until after his death.
It’s a small thing, but as I make these little cross stitch creations, I learn about different artists’ use of color. Van Gogh is fearless with color, and I love recreating his paintings with needle and floss more than any other artist so far.
There are years that ask questions and there are years that answer.
Zora Neale Hurston
I have thought about this quote a lot this week. At first, I agreed with it, but changed my mind. I don’t think our lives show up as one thing one year and another thing the next. Life is more nuanced than that. Yes, some answers are better seen after the experience, but I want to say that answers are always in the works.
I think it’s our tendency to generalize about time. I might say I had a bad day, when really, the bad stuff lasted a few minutes. We might have a tendency to say the past few years have been uncertain, but when I look at what I have learned during this time of really tough experiences, can I really say I have lived without answers? No! These years of poor health, deaths, and uncertainty have given me extra life experience and many answers in a consolidated time. Looking back, I am able to see more accurately that answers were always descending, helpers were prepared to do their thing, and clarity came, one adjustment at a time.
Our kids are well beyond the kindergarten stage, so why have I kept their school papers all these years?
Denial that they are grown and gone
Nostalgia for those sweet days with our kids
Avoiding emotions
These papers are proof that I accomplished something as a home educator.
NO MORE. This week I got rid of nearly all my children’s home school papers, saving just a few things that make my heart flip. I have emptied several shelves this week, yet somehow the bookcases are still full. My random piles of books are finding homes on the empty shelves, and I am gaining momentum in my ability to part with things.
Educating my children was a big part of my life, so this process of parting with papers is emotional. I have learned that most children are not sentimental about their school projects, so there is no need to save much. I know now that whatever I save is mainly for me. Understanding this has made the process much easier. I remind myself that I don’t need every writing sample, but I would like a few pages of each child’s writing and some special projects and art. This script made it possible for me to part with several armloads of paper and workbooks, which I lowered into the garbage can, carefully, as I would into a grave.
It occurs to me that keeping a small, curated collection is a greater tribute to these years than a bunch of binders bursting with paper.
After each session of cleaning, I comfort myself by reading or cross stitching. All these realizations and diversions help me to face the task of letting go.
