2022 Stitch by Stitch
We have indeed had a year and then some.
Cliff’s health looks like a stock market free-fall chart of peaks and valleys. He’s nearly died 5 times since May. His medical team added medicines, another stent, and then a pacemaker. Tests reveal more issues to address when his system recovers. Foolishly thinking the worst was behind him, last weekend he returned to the ER where flash pulmonary edema occurred for the 4th time. A ventilator became the only option. After 3 days, he rallied and is home for Christmas. Between all the emergencies, he’d regain energy and return to his garden. Because he produces more than we can eat, he gladly gives the surplus to neighbors. A dedicated traveler on America’s back roads, those adventures wait for a bit longer. Staying alive remains his crowning achievement this year.
May delivered another cruel blow. Our sweet dog Maria developed a tumor on her spleen. For a 13-year-old dog, there were no good options. None. Believe me. With Cliff hospitalized, Maggie went with me to put her down. A remarkably good dog, Maria somehow knew not to climb into this garden until the daffodils stopped blooming. Then she’d stretch out on the cool green leaves to keep an eye on me. We still listen for her tap-tap-tapping steps across our wood floor. We’re not likely to recover from her loss. Ever.
Fortunately, Maggie lives nearby in Michigan, working for Detroit’s United Community Housing Coalition, where she is now a Legal Services Data Analyst. Their assistance to tenants and low-income homeowners has gained them national recognition, with other cities following their impressive program. Their director, in his annual address, noted their brave, creative vision that “builds the plane while flying it.” She continues with her pottery classes and gathers weekly with co-workers for a bar Trivia Night. Sometimes they even win. She and her roommates vacationed in Hilton Head, SC this summer.
My second picture book, LIBRARY GIRL: How Nancy Pearl Became America’s Most Celebrated Librarian, arrived in September. (I am no longer a one-hit wonder.) I flew to Seattle for the launch and joined illustrator Sheryl Murray to tape Nancy’s Book Lust TV show. It appears on my website under BOOKS. Fair warning: I cannot bear to watch myself. I made the front page of local newspapers and found a dime that very day.
In a surprise to everyone who knows me, I joined the local sewing group. We’re a collection of women who sit in a circle and talk about, well, all the stuff that women notice about life. Maggie had a chance to meet 2 of them and said later, “Mom, I think you’ve found your people.” I’m a needlepointer who discovered, during those agonizing hospital days, I weathered the waiting stitch by stitch.
But wait. There’s more.
I joined a yoga studio, realizing I best keep mobile, given Cliff’s straits. Classes extend far beyond traditional yoga. One is led by an 82-year-old woman who urges us to take our time, to clear our minds of duties. Just when I was feeling hopeless, twisted on a mat, overcome with worry, I looked up and saw the mural’s image: a white moon rising in the night sky, shining above the water. It reminded me of my first book, Sweet Moon Baby: From high in the warm sky, the moon’s face glowed on the river, making a path as clear as the night’s promise.
Signs appear.
They glow through the darkness. Or through the stitches.
Inexplicable.
A promise.
Like the 400 dimes I’ve found since my mother’s passing.
Like Cliff’s smile after every emergency.
Like Maggie beside me, holding my hand.
I hope you find your people.
And that signs appear.
Inexplicable though they may be, you’ll know they’re for you.
Only you.
[Maggie said I should include the requisite author headshot taken for the book because I rarely include myself in the year’s review. It demonstrates what a professional can accomplish with precision lighting.]
