Of pins and hope

I have a group of friends, some of whom I know face to face, and some only virtually. There are eight of us altogether and for the fourth year, we’ve had secret Santa gift exchange. It’s lots of silly fun, and the gifts are sort of beside the point. It’s the friendship that counts.

Glass head pins

This year, my secret Santa was Harriet. She sent a collection of things—some of her favorite hand lotion, an ornament in the shape of a sewing machine, the pins you see in this photo (glass heads are essential in sewing, the plastic ones are useless because they will melt and ruin your project).

What got me was what she said about these gifts:

“These things are from one of my favorite local shops. They also sell clothes -- some handmade by the owner --and teach sewing. Next time you're here, I'll take you there!”

Next time I’m there in New York—which means there will be a next time.

I won’t lie, this has been an extremely tough year, maybe the toughest of my life. It’s been harder in many ways than 2009. We’ve been dealing with a lot, all external and most are out of our control. Kent’s mother has some very serious health issues and he’s been there three or four times in the last two months and he’s been managing all the decision making and sorting out of options long distance. I watch him worry and stress about making the right choices for her, and being a good son. He does make good choices and he is a good son, but it’s very hard.

So to hear from my friend that she will share a favorite place with me the next time I’m there? Well it’s like one of those clichéd Thomas Kinkade paintings where the sunbeam pierces the doom and gloom. Frankly I can use the hope.