Tomorrow we’ll screw on the panel that covers the red wall inside this first closet. We had to create a 2×4 wide spacer against the end wall so that the door would have room to open and not hit the wall, and also so that the conduit encased electrical line would be concealed.
My mom would have been 90 today. She died in February of 2014 when she was 87. I have the cornflower blue winter scarf she was crocheting. It is still unfinished. Her life was unfinished. The pneumonia that killed her came on quickly and strong. Stronger than the antibiotics. She was not ready to die. I am not referring to what was betweenher and the Almighty; I mean that she had more life she expected to live, more scarfs and flowers to crochet, more game shows to watch, and more telephoned discussions about whatever was going on, personally to world-wide. The blue scarf seems inconsequential when tallied as part of one’s life work. For mom it was an act of creating. It was fulfilling. She could sit in her recliner with her feet up, listen to “Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader,”crochet a pattern she had half made-up, and have a one-of-a-kind gift to make someone she knew happy.
Like the 37 days Patti Digh’s stepdad had between diagnosis and death, mom’s blue scarf is a reminder to live now. Life fully. Live doing what causes your heartlight to glow.
There are no unimportant days.
andrea100days 