edited: Forgot to update on my Dad. He should be released this week to an Acute Care Facility where he needs to be spend the next 12 weeks getting IV antibiotics round the clock and physical therapy. What they are thinking happened is this: He had a UTI the beginning of November and he was only given a normal 10 day dose of antibiotic, which didn't take care of it. They said it was not "unheard of" for a UTI to become an infection in the spine (what???). His test results showed that the infection has made its way into the bone. They are not going to biopsy unless the antibiotic treatment shows itself not to be working. So, with the very generous help of friends, mom managed to get the motorhome moved the 80 miles from Mesquite to Las Vegas and set up in a campsite only 15 minutes from the hospital and Care Facility. It's going to be a long winter for them too. They were coming here to help me when I have my hip replacement Jan. 9, but obviously that can't happen now. I just hope that what the doctors do is the correct course of action for my Dad and at the end of the 12 weeks he can get back to enjoying his retirement, as he so deserves.
Just a couple recent pages. Indy turned nine on Friday and as always, its so hard to believe that much time has gone by in the blink of an eye. She wanted an electronic keyboad most of all (a "real" one) and since she is pretty much self-teaching herself to play piano whenever she has access to one, that's what we got her. SO sweet - she taught herself to play "Happy Birthday" as soon as we got it set up and ended up playing it "to herself" before bed time. Love this little chica!
Today I felt like quilting, but not starting a big project, so I made my way upstairs (the first stairs I've attempted since surgery) and sat in front of my sewing machine with a stack of pre-cut squares. I started putting together this little doll quilt/wall hanging without much pre-formed thought about how it would come out, or much of anything else.
And then, for some unknown reason, I thought of Sally. When I was in fourth grade we moved from Anaheim, CA to Colorado Springs, CO. I remember walking into class, in the middle of the year, the middle of the day and the middle of a lesson. One of those moments when every head swiveled in my direction and I wanted to crawl into a hole. I was sat down in an empty desk next to a tall, willowy blonde girl who became my "first" best friend. Her name was Brenda and in a weird twist of fate, we later discovered in that class (during a geneolgy assignment) that our great-great-great grandmothers were cousins. We were inseperable for many years, even remaining so after I moved to Denver and our parents had to drive us the 1 1/2 hours to visit for weekends. Our families became friends as well and we spent many summer weekends camping together.
When I went away to college, I had no idea that the last time I had seen her would actually be the last time I ever saw her. I thought about her frequently but, as often happens, so much time went by that suddenly we are now as old as our parents had been when we were kids. A couple years ago I found out that Brenda lived in Michagan. I sent her a Christmas card and received one back saying after the holidays she would call me. No call came, but neither did I make one to her. Another year went by, and I sent another card, but didn't get one back. Then I heard from my mom that Brenda's mom was dying from cancer. Her mom, Sally, was a wonderful seamstress. I remember her sewing room, going to FabricLand, where she worked part-time, seeing the wedding dress she made for her son's wife-t0-be. I remember so many random things. She made us "chef salad" with sliced lunch meat and Western dressing (similar to French), she always had a clean house and a little crystal dish with wrapped candies in the living room. She was a good cook.
I assume the connection came because I was sewing and Sally was the best seamstress I ever knew. Although I don't recall her being a quilter and I have certainly sewed hundreds of times since, for some reason today she was on my mind the entire time I was quilting. Last winter I heard from my mom that Sally had passed away and my parents, who still lived nearby, went to her funeral and did see my friend, Brenda. Another year has gone by and still Brenda and I have never spoken. Brenda, if you're reading this, or I should say, when you read this, because somehow I know you will, I want to tell you how sorry I am for not knowing what to say to you when I heard of your mom's passing. And thereby not saying anything at all. Sally was a wonderful mother to you and Jeff, and I know she and your Dad adored each other. I will always think it was her influence that gave me a love for fabric and sewing. So this little quilty thing, which I was kind of calling "Sunshine", is now "Sally's Sunshine" and will hang in my sewing room. Thank you, Sally.