I am reminded of a quote I read years ago about the art of life “being in the balance of holding on and letting go.” When Jean passed I boxed up her remaining room items to be donated. One item I wanted was a plaid afghan throw, yarn woven with soft colors of taupe, brown, pink and ivory, kept on her rocker, always close-by, handmade by her sister. But it was gone. I asked the nursing home and they checked all the rooms, but it wasn’t found. I was disappointed but took some peace knowing the person who mistakenly had it, would enjoy.
I know we are not supposed to place stock in belongings or things, but this afghan meant something to me. My Jean favored it and it had a prominent place in her living space during the 21 years we were together. It spent time around my Jean and I wanted it. I wanted it’s warmth. I wanted it close to me. Just find it. I thought about making a fuss over it to the nursing home, but why, to what end? It can’t be replaced. I don’t want another blanket, I only wanted this one.
Almost 5 months after Jean has passed, the woman at the nursing home contacted me —the afghan appeared— and she knew instantly whose it was! She mailed it to me. I was out of town for over a week and had forgotten about it being sent. Today I opened a box, not remembering the gift coming to me, and when I saw the afghan- tears! Joy. My Jean. I wrapped it around my arms. I felt like Jean was giving me a hug.
Isn’t it interesting how some thing can bring comfort. It found its way home. The gravitational pull of Love.
Live. Breathe. Alive. blog- Here I write about lessons I am learning about life, love, and my spiritual journey to help others. Using the voice I have.