My parents are beginning the last journey by moving into independent living next year. They will be in a brand new facility and it is sweet. I am ready to move in myself. So now we are starting to clean their house and they need to get rid of at least half of it. So mom and I started in her craft room. I was in 3rd grade when Kennedy was shot. It just so happened that the day he got shot we were making tea towels for our moms for Christmas. We used a potato and I used red ink for her fav color. I remember I was hemming it when our teacher came in, told us to put our name on the towel and grab our stuff and go home. We had no idea what was going on and did not understand what all it meant, but we went home. My mom never used the towel and we found it today, she kept it all these years, so now it is in my possession. Oh the memories of stuff we found today and the tears that were shed. Getting old really sucks and knowing that your parents are on their final journey makes it all the harder. At least I live 10 minutes away so I can help them through this.
Guide to Yarn Blends
1 day ago