Sleeping through the Storm

As you know, I try to keep this blog stitching related, but once in awhile I feel the need to tell about other parts of my life.  For the past six months, I've had a heavy heart as I learned that my cousin, Linda, was dying of melanoma.  She wasn't a cousin I was particularly close to when we were growing up although she and her family lived just twelve miles from us.  My father came from a family of 11 so I had 20 cousins on that side of the family (and none on my mother's side as neither of her two sisters married).  Because there were so many of us, we tended to break off into age groups and since Linda was five years younger than me, she was with my sisters more often.  But I got to know her better as her illness progressed and she and her wonderful friends posted on her journal at CaringBridge.  It was great to learn about her strong spirit and faith, her love for her favorite sports teams and players and her sense of adventure.  She left out the parts about her suffering, but I know it was there until she finally, peacefully passed away about a week ago.

I went for a walk during the morning after I was notified of her death.  I happened to be listening to Mitch Albom's Have a Little Faith.  That kind of book is not normally my thing as I usually find the writing sentimental and the thoughts oversimpliflied.  However, as soon as my walk began, I was listening to an anecdote in the book about a farmer who is looking for a new farmhand.  A man is recommended to him as someone who can sleep through the storm.  The farmer doesn't know what this means, but hires him anyway.  That night, a storm rages and the farmer rushes out to the barn to check on things.  He finds the farmhand sleeping and when he wakes him, he asks if he has taken care of the animals and the fields.  Of course, all those things had been done and the farmhand was able to sleep through the storm because he had taken care of what was important.  My cousin worked until the very last week of her life to take care of some things that were important to her and she was able to die rejoicing.  As we all do at times like these, I have been re-evaluating my priorities and asking whether I have been making time for the things that are important.  Thanks, Linda, for teaching all of your family one final lesson.