This week, time spent reviewing the past years and laughing at how far I have come. I think maybe it’s an indicator of getting older, but it seems like when you’re 16, you look around the world and in the hubris of youth assume that everyone would love to be young like you. And as we age, we look around at the young and thank our lucky stars we never have to be 16 again.
I’m not in love with every step I’ve taken over the past 35+ years, but I’m in love with the life I live today, with my husband and my children and with the amazing contacts and encounters that have fallen into my path. None of the best things in my life could have been planned, and all the things I wake each day and say a prayer of gratitude over clearly came from a mind greater than my own. And so, not just this week, but this week especially, I am truly thankful.
Today, it’s for Sandra, who played a much larger part in my sewing story than she ever could have dreamed when she was living. If you have read this story before, you know how cool it is–but do take the time to scroll down through the comments and read what Sandra’s son was good enough to write. It completes the story so elegantly, and reminds me that even when I think I’m in control, I’m not–and how glad I am to find that to be the truth.
