I haven't written on this blog in almost 2 weeks. It isn't writer's block....it's writer's overload. A handful of friends know the events of the past several days and think I need to write a book. Every time I decide on a topic...and there have been multiple possibilities....I realize that there is no way to throw that information out in the public arena without hurt to someone. Changing names to protect the innocent...or the guilty...would not be sufficient.
If I can't write about what is consuming my thoughts, then I can't write about anything, and so I have been silent. If I ever extract myself from the vortex of chaos surrounding me and arrive at some focal point, I will have lots of material.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Gratitude for Little Things
My husband's return from a business trip to California was the occasion for me to be sitting in the baggage claim area of the Syracuse airport. His flight was about 30 minutes late, so I occupied myself with a knitting project. Although I was focused on my yarn and needles, I was aware of a woman of Indian or Pakistani origin who was obviously also waiting. She walked around the baggage claim area coming closer to me with each circuit. I figured she noticed me knitting and was eventually going to come close enough to engage me in conversation.
After several minutes, she did indeed approach and ask me what I was knitting. I told her it was a sweater for a doll. She sat down beside me, and we carried on a typical get-acquainted conversation. Where are you from? For whom are you waiting? How many children do you have? How many grandchildren? What are their ages? Where do your children live?
As we chatted, I came to a spot in my knitting where I needed to do something I had not done before. I mumbled something to myself and made an attempt which didn't look right to me. She questioned what I needed to do, and said, "Oh, I know how to do that. Give me the needles." She quickly did two stitches, and that was enough for me to catch on to the technique. She handed my project back, and off I went. I am not sure how long it would have taken me to figure this out on my own.
How nice that our paths crossed and that she was available with knowledge at the precise time I was in need of it. We never actually exchanged names, but I am glad for those few minutes.
I am grateful for the tiny slices of life when I receive an unexpected blessing.
After several minutes, she did indeed approach and ask me what I was knitting. I told her it was a sweater for a doll. She sat down beside me, and we carried on a typical get-acquainted conversation. Where are you from? For whom are you waiting? How many children do you have? How many grandchildren? What are their ages? Where do your children live?
As we chatted, I came to a spot in my knitting where I needed to do something I had not done before. I mumbled something to myself and made an attempt which didn't look right to me. She questioned what I needed to do, and said, "Oh, I know how to do that. Give me the needles." She quickly did two stitches, and that was enough for me to catch on to the technique. She handed my project back, and off I went. I am not sure how long it would have taken me to figure this out on my own.
How nice that our paths crossed and that she was available with knowledge at the precise time I was in need of it. We never actually exchanged names, but I am glad for those few minutes.
I am grateful for the tiny slices of life when I receive an unexpected blessing.
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