A Blue Ridge Over-Night.

You know of that juggler who has all of his pins flying around in motion, yet manages to throw in ONE more thing?

I mean, after all – what’s just ONE more thing?

After I went as far as I could on yesterday’s orders and getting things out the door and made my chiropractor appointment at 11:30 – my overly full van Moby and I continued west to Wilkesboro, North Carolina, and up highway 16 toward Jefferson and the Virginia state line.

 (Heads up folks!  For those waiting for the Triangle Booty Rulers to arrive, I finally got the tracking number yesterday and they should be on my door step TODAY!  There were a flurry of things that delayed this shipment longer than expected.  So sorry!)

And because I wasn’t in a hurry – and because I wasn’t meeting up with anyone at any particular time, I did something I’ve wanted to do since we bought our Virginia place more than a year ago.

I took the Blue Ridge Parkway entrance and pulled off at the first overlook I got to.

My soul is so at peace here

I know there is a lot of life and living and chaos and strife going on in the towns and cities below – but you can’t see anything but green and blue from here.  The hardwood trees cover all.  And I can think.

I sat at a picnic table and ate my little lunch, listening to the thunder rumble overheard as rain fell in the distance.  It was moving this way.  But not yet.  Not quite yet.

There is something else to explore 1/2 mile up the trail.

But I am in sandals.  Not a good mix.  Next time.

The view north from the other side of the road.

Vast and calming.

Conversations have been going back and forth daily between my dad and I – Mark is struggling so hard to stay with us.  But in the past 5 weeks he has gone from walking fine – (He treated my dad to a James Taylor concert in Phoenix, walking long distances from the parking lot, and up to the seating section where they were, handling stairs just fine.  So happy they made these memories!) to needing a cane just a week later.

Two weeks later he was using a walker – and 2 weeks after that, as in this past week, he is now in a wheelchair.

Brain cancer sucks.

And I can’t find the words to express what is going on as my heart and soul wrestle with still believing in miracles, and facing the likely inevitable.

And I am on the other side of the country – dealing with my own family.

Jason is coming today to say goodbye as he pulls everything he owns in a small U-haul behind his SUV all the way to Portland, Oregon - his heart breaking as he leaves his two beloved cats with us until he can retrieve them, if ever.

My son is capable.  He should be excited about his move and new beginnings, and his mother needs to NOT be a blubbering idiot over this, but you know……this is my baby.  He may be 34, but he is my baby. And I need to be visibly happy and excited for him. I will NOT be a downer at the start of his journey.

As I make my way to my car and drive back to the cloverleaf ramp that will send me on my way toward the cabin, I spy a gate in the trees as I look left, checking for traffic at the stop sign.

How far is it?  From this gate?

I quickly remind myself that I am wearing Birkenstock sandals.  Not exactly the kind of thing one goes hiking a mountain trail in, but what the heck.  The rain will likely hold off for another 10 minutes – go check it out. 

It’s up more than 1/4 mile from the road.

Uphill all the way -

But there is a beautiful haven in this hidden place. 

This little cemetery pre-dates the building of the Blue Ridge Parkway.  It’s likely that the Parkway was designed to go around it, leaving this family their sacred place. (The idea for the Blue Ridge Parkway was born when President Franklin Delano Roosevelt visited the newly constructed Skyline Drive in Virginia in 1933.)

1917.

And perhaps older.

This is a beautiful family plot.

And I know why there is peace here.

All of these departed loved ones –were loved.  Cherished, missed and mourned.  I’m not sure at this time why I felt lead here, but I still believe in miracles.  Life is a miracle in and of itself, no matter if it is long lived, or short.  The passing from this life and out of it is a miracle. 

And there is so much more I can’t put into words.

I let my sister in law know last night that should anything happen while I’m teaching over the next few weeks that I will drop everything and get on a plane to Arizona.

I have a week between returning from England and needing to be in Bedford, Pennsylvania in August.  I may find myself in AZ for a couple of days between those two events.

In September I have a week between Labor Day and teaching in Colorado on a 3-guild tour.  After the Colorado stint, there is another open week and I can again be in Arizona dependent upon what is going on.

And I’m rambling – but this is the only way I can get my thoughts out to make sense of what I CAN do.

And when I don’t feel like there is anything else that I can do – I pray.

And I cut fabric.

I cut A LOT of fabric last evening.  Yes.  It’s a black and white photo.  You may start guessing what colors are really represented in this photo!

Some Leader & Ender half-square triangles happened in between rounds of sewing secret things. I love the Thin Mint Girl Scout cookie fabric I was given in Mississippi just a few weeks back.

And even some hand quilting stitches found their place to rest while evening TV watching.  One can do a lot of thinking while needle and thread meet.

This morning I’m headed over the Quiltville Inn to offload all of the furniture in my very full van, and head on home to meet Jason.

I feel the need to hug on my boy and send him into his next chapter.

And there are two more cats to be dealt with and all that goes into getting them used to new surroundings, a new family – wondering how Sadie and Emmy Lou are going to react to all of this.

And life marches on….

Quiltville Quote of the Day.

Vintage butterfly quilt found in Verona, VA.

Sometimes learning when it is OK to let go of control is the hardest part.

Much love on this Thursday -