I had this impossible idea that somehow I would be able to sneak off and work on projects while we are in the process of moving. One morning almost a couple of weeks ago, I awoke early with the idea that I just needed to get a cupboard cleared and I could make a little time to finally top stitch my Christmas on Easy Street (Bonnie Hunter winter mystery 2012). About 15 minutes into my work on the bathroom, I realized that I wasn't hearing from my mother as I normally do on Tuesdays; she still takes great delight in calling me early now that I am a mother.
I went to find my phone, though it was plugged in, my daughter had run down the battery, it had shut off and I had automatically plugged it in before bed. Turning on the phone, my world exploded in a moment. There were messages in every form waiting for me; texts, voicemails, facebook from my mother and 2 of my brothers. Every word, every messaged boiled down to this: There was an accident, call us!
I was 10 months old when my brother Nicky was brought into this world. From my first memory he has always been there. When they told me that he had been hit by a car as he walked across the road at an intersection, I couldn't breathe, nor could I talk, let alone craft or quilt. I haven't slept a full night, nor had a full thought since then. I have been assigned the role of spokesperson for our family. My life is now calling the hospital, the police, setting up updates via a private facebook group, and praying. Right now, we are hoping for a miracle.
On top of all this, we are packing to move in a few weeks. Needless to say I probably won't be sneaking off to sew, instead I occasionally stalk Richy's Instagram for more quilty goodness (LINK). Of course this stalking has me planning like 6 or 7 new projects in my head even while I find more and more UFO's while getting things packed up! Well, I'd better get back to it!