My Grandmother's Aprons

I was fortunate to receive my Grandmother's aprons after she died. I remember being a very small child in Grandma's kitchen, and the very grown-up feeling of tying on an apron for "real work" - which usually involved washing doll cups in a basin of clean water.
 
Grandma purchased these hand-sewn aprons in the 1950s and 1960s from an agency that employed blind seamstresses. I note the tidy hems and seams, and I cannot imagine sewing such fine seams without sight.

I love them for their cheery colors, and for the memories. And I create new memories when my various wee nieces wear these same aprons for our kitchen work.

Because aprons - even very lovely vintage aprons - are for working.

I'll meet you further on down the road...

Today my younger brother, Tommy, would have turned 46. It is a day of bittersweet remembrances.

It is a day my sis-in-law and I text each other little hearts and share teary laughs.

It is a day I count my blessings - that 2 of my younger brothers are still with me and such a huge and wonderful part of my life.

It is also a day of hope - for in death, there can be hope. So I dig deep and plant those seeds.

Yesterday, a reporter noted that I seem less angry about 9/11 and Tommy's death - that I seem more at peace. She asked what had changed.

Time. 

Time, God's mercy, the love of family and friends - and LOTS of writing - have brought me past the anger.

Making a focused effort to note the beauty all around me has brought me peace - for how can I maintain rage when confronted with the clear and innocent gazes and sweet confidences of my young nieces? How can I not find some measure of solace meditating in my garden? (any garden, if I'm being honest!) How can I stay stuck in an unhealthy place when I am surrounded by the love of good people?

Happy birthday, Tommy Too! I'll see you again, down the road a bit!

Note - the photo is of a painting from the Tribute: Downtown Rising exhibition. It is a series of paintings made of the World Trade Center site over the past 10 years. The first is dated September 10, 2001.

A Visit with a Japanese Reporter

Today I brought home a Japanese journalist to meet my parents.

I met Akiko five years ago, when she was in the US interviewing 9/11 families - and we had a truly wonderful conversation. Rather than the typical newspaper interview, after answering a few questions we embarked on a wide ranging conversation that touched on grief, anger, 9/11, global politics, cultural differences re US and Japan - and so much more

This week, the paper sent Akiko back to the US to engage in "follow-up" with a few of the people she met in 2006. And this time I invited her to meet my parents in their home. We had tea and cake, and Akiko brought some delicious cookies from Japan as a gift. And over tea, we talked.

We talked of how we each have changed in the past five years - and how our family and the world at large has changed since 9/11 - for good and for ill. We discussed 9/11 and my younger brother, Tommy.

We discussed how we channeled our grief from Tommy's death into a scholarship fund and an annual golf outing. We shared our thoughts on the national memorial and on global politics.

We talked of Fukushima and the suffering Akiko has seen there.

We talked of family and friends and faith and fellowship.

It truly is a small world when people take the time and the care to reach out over distance to touch hearts.