Stitched together with love

The last of my beloved "adopted" grandparents died early Friday morning. I loved this lady so much that I am not even sure I can find a single thing to write here without crying all over the damn keyboard.

She made the best apple pies ever (and I am so thankful that a few months ago I asked her to write down her recipe for me).

She was always, always kind and sweet and gentle and thoughtful.

She never failed to tell me that Jack was a beautiful, special little boy.

We worked on a quilt together recently and she sent me a really beautiful thank you note (which I cannot find right now and that makes me sad because I am so sure I kept it) which said something to the effect of: Sarah, your work is beautiful. It is so much nicer than what I could have done on my own and I could never thank you enough for your help. That meant to the world to me.

So today when they mentioned her quilts at her funeral, I really lost it. She made beautifully simple quilts. Tiny 2 inch squares, always stitched together by hand. They are not masterful works of art, but scrap quilts that her kids and grandkids and great-grandkids use and love.

And they were stitched together with love.

Just like she and I were. Not bound by blood or obligation, but stitched together with love.

When I get where I'm going will always remind me of you Grandma. I hope that you and Grandpa are up there reunited, watching over us, with Grandpa sneaking cigarettes ("Don't tell Grandma I am out here smoking!") and you keeping us all stitched together with your love.

I miss you already.

P.S. We've been to church twice this week. I know that would make you laugh, since you were always on me to go to church more! Your passing has brought up a lot of questions for Jack about life and death and what has been happening to you. (How long will she sleep? How will she move now? Where did she go? When will I die? When does everyone die? Why does everyone die?)

Unlike my usual waffling self, I told him exactly what I *know* to be true this time. You are an angel in heaven now. I may still be riding that religion fence, but if ever there were an angel, it's you.