Saturday, February 26, 2011

the embroidered pillowcase

Who would have known a pillow would provide such comfort to my dying father? A pillow ensconced in a pillowcase I embroidered when I was about ten years old. Some of the threads are missing and need to be restitched but I could not help smiling when I saw it there this week perched up alongside his sweet face. He made sure every night before we tucked him in that we put that pillow on his left side.

Dying is laborious work. I take any pearls and smiles I can find in this journey.

tea relish

Funny how little things scurry into my mind these days. Things "au nouveau" that prick interest, the voice in the back of my mind ...