is a day in agony. At least, when you are used to being on the Internet several times a day. Last Sunday our power went out. When it came back on, we discovered that our WiFi had gone out. No matter what we did, we could not get it to work. Then we discovered problems with the cable modum. Then the computer virus(s). We are finally back in working order (Thursday) but the main PC is still not 100 percent healthy. Hmmm… I work for a specialty pharmacy… maybe there is a pill I can give it?
A few days ago, it snowed. Nothing unusual for Michigan. As I type this, we are in the middle of a thunderstorm. Very strange!
Yesterday was my birthday, and I received two fantastic presents. First, tickets to see Jesus Christ Superstar at Whiting Auditorium. I am SO excited! Second, I learned that my paternal grandmother was a quilter.
Now, you might be wondering why I am just learning this. You see, I was adopted at four months of age. Yesterday I received an email from a first cousin in Texas, who told me about OUR grandmother’s love for quilting. You have no idea how that touched me. None at all. Sadly, she passed away last year and I will not have the opportunity to see her stitch or learn from her. I hope to see a quilt she has made.
As an adoptee, bits of your family history are pieced together with little parts and tiny stitches. If you are lucky, you will have a potholder-sized picture of your biological history. I am up to a wallhanging. I know my biological mother, my siblings on her side, and a few of her relatives. I have exchanged emails with a first cousin on my paternal side and, years ago, spoke briefly with my father. I know I am part Norwegian and part Cherokee.
Some quilts take six months. Others take a lifetime. They are all precious.