The supermoon has been slowly building over the last few evenings. Enormous and bright, I have been watching it slowly grow in fullness all week. I’ve been looking forward to watching this moon, the Harvest Supermoon of 2025, rise this evening, but of course it is raining and cold. I know, even though I can’t see it, that the moon is there, just out of my sight.
Tonight’s moon pretty much matches my mood this evening. There is this beautiful shining thing, just out of sight, but just knowing it is there, I am buoyed up and happy. I’ve been thinking about recuerdos and glimmers all day as I cleaned out boxes of things connected to my sister and son: bits and pieces of things that they valued and were stored, or sent, to me over the years. Nestled among the junk and ancient clothing there are objects that instantly transport me to another place and time: recuerdos.
My mom was raised in Argentina during her teens and early twenties, and she was bilingual and somewhat multi-cultural in her approach to life. Every important trip or event required a recuerdo to help capture and preserve the memory of the event; she would insist that we select and keep something. Recuerdos are like souvenirs, or memories, but richer and more transformative, returning you to an important experience. That’s what I’ve been finding as I go through the boxes: pictures, trophies, knitted items, old quilts, a college diploma, stuffed animals, and marching shoes. Every single item rich with memories, returning me to the time when I visited a national park with my sister, or watched my son from the bleachers in a fencing tournament at the US Air Force Academy. Like tonight’s supermoon, something great and shining is right there with me, out of sight, but real all the same, and I am happy.
I found three unfinished quilts in the tubs. All the fabrics bundled together, a lot of the cutting already done, everything organized to create the quilts that she dreamed of. I was instantly transported to her favorite fabric store in San Diego, picking out fabrics with her on a beautiful summer afternoon.
Grief is a difficult thing to deal with, but I’ve learned some lessons over the years as the universe kept shoveling bad news in my direction. It helps to write. It is important to acknowledge what has happened, and to allow your support groups to… well… support you! Honor the good in the people (or life) that has been lost. Focus on what you can do, not what is no longer possible. Make sure you are getting enough to eat; remember to rest. Reconnect with your friends, and get out of the house. Create purpose and beauty from the loss whenever possible.
What to do with all of this… stuff… in the crates?
My sister loved autumn colors. Orange, yellow, greens, and browns. I found almost 20 skeins of ORANGE yarn in the crates, and as luck would have it, Halloween and Thanksgiving are right around the corner. All of that yarn is going to be transformed into chemo hats. I’ve been making 2 a day and hope to get them all to an infusion center by the middle of the month. Can you feel the glimmer? I’m looking forward to driving them to a Kaiser infusion center up north next week through the fall foliage; maybe there will still be some sunflowers in the fields. Glimmer.
Then there is the fabric. Oh, boy. There is a lot of fabric there! I’ve been sorting through it and pulling out nice colors to make into zipper pouches (filled with hygiene products) for the DART program at Denver Health.
This week there was an article in the local news about an organization that provides comfort quilts to trauma survivors. They take in donated fabric and unfinished quilts: what a great place for my sister’s unfinished quilts to go!! I’ve been sorting my own fabric along with my sister’s to get the donation ready, and I plan to drive it up to the organization next week. Can’t you just feel the shine of the supermoon just out of sight? It’s like there is a glimmer hiding right behind my shoulder, raising my spirits and centering me again.
So, this is life. I’m pulling myself back together while surrounded by items that my sister gifted me through the years, sorting the fabrics, yarn, and projects that she once had big plans for, reliving our time together, and taking her dreams into the future with me while mindfully watching for the glimmers of peace and joy that are there for us.
Shine on, Harvest Supermoon. Shine on.
P.S.
I was able to successfully rehome my son’s three cats all together two weeks ago. This week, as I worried about how they were doing, I followed the story of Francine’s loss and the resulting successful rescue operation. Yesterday when I heard that Francine had been returned to her home, a Lowe’s store where she is the resident cat, I heard from the new owner of my son’s cats; they were out, sleeping on her bed, and chomping tuna. Glimmer time!!
Yarn, Books & Roses 
Dear Marilyn; you are a wonderful person, a lesson to me (I’m sure to all of us, in truth). You find the positive if it’s there to be found and you utilise it, turning it about and knitting it up into one of your beautiful sweaters.
I’m filled with frustration that I can’t be of any practical use to you, my friend. And I would so love to be in your company and experience the beauty of the harvest moon with you – and with Hannah and the Coalbear. Which reminds me to say what a terrific thing it was that you found someone who could take all three of your son’s moggies: that was a true win:win !
It’s so good that those boxes brought you joy, not sadness. I remember going through Chic ‘s office desk after he’d died and discovering many, many things that were familiar and brought tears and laughter.
I’m truly glad to hear you say that writing helps; because your posts are always enjoyable and enjoyed – sometimes only because they let me know you’re still there …
XO
I wish so much that you lived near me and we could hang out at Starbucks crafting and causing trouble together! It means so much to have online friends who keep supporting me even after I drop off the grid for several weeks at a time.
I have been crying in-between the flashes of glimmer. I remind myself that this is a whole process and to keep moving forward. I had been focused for weeks on rehoming the cats and getting my son’s online memorial up, and that all finally happened over the last two weeks. The relief of following through on my commitments is immense, and that helps too.
Grief is ever-present. You never know when it will show up and take you on a roller-coaster ride. All we can do is move through life and find glimmers and bask in the warmth of recuerdos. I love your giving spirit. It is so lovely that your sister’s yarn and fabric are going to bring some joy and comfort to people in need of those very things. I am glad you were able to rehome your son’s cats together. It is wonderful that they are transitioning well. Sending love and hugs.
Your attitude is a reflection of my own, and I especially love “All we can do is move through life and find glimmers and bask in the warmth of recuerdos.” That is exactly how I feel with a strong drive to bring as good from the loss as I can.
Thank you for the love and hugs. I have shed a lot of tears over all of this, but it is getting better: recuerdos and glimmer are the way to go!!!
What a beautiful post. Do you ever think about writing a book? Your family and own life have been so interesting and challenging. So glad the cats are together in a new home. X
I have thought of writing a book over the years, and had been looking for a writing workshop group to join when scleroderma and life hit. Thank you for such nice feedback. I think I wouldn’t be doing as well as I am if I wasn’t blogging.
Your strength and positive attitude give me hope. I’m still grieving the senseless loss of my nephew from an accidental fall in his home. So glad you found an organization that can use all the quilting materials.
Oh, no. What a terrible thing to have happened. Hugs. Completely senseless and unexpected losses are so hard to recover from; my heart is broken for you and your family. May you find glimmers of your own.
I’m so glad you were able to find homes for these glimmers—the cats, yes, but also the fabric and yarn that was left behind. I hope you are doing well!
I’m doing much better now, and it really helps to be steadily creating stuff from my sister’s yarn and fabric. I was so relieved to have the cats successfully rehomed, and I have to say, Hannah was just thrilled when I got them out of the house. I kept them in a separate room behind a gate and Hannah continued to growl and hiss at them the entire 4 weeks that they were with me.
I can’t say I’m surprised at Hannah’s reaction. Cats—like their humans—get stuck in their ways.
Hannah really wants to be the only cat. When Mateo was at the vet for a couple of days she was so happy, and then I brought him back! She was so disappointed in me…
Aaww, poor sweetie. Some cats love the company, and others are really happiest as only cats. It can be so hard to tell, too.
Your undaunted spirit and generosity are the glimmer in my life, Marilyn. As for the moon, I have so many tall trees around me that unless I know an exact time and direction, I’ll never see the moon. (Hmm, those tubs give me an idea for how to handle all the stuff I’ve accumulated … )
Shame on you, Colorado, for being an Accumulater !! [grin]
🙂
You can get those tubs delivered from Target!! I saw the moon this evening, really bright, shining through the trees behind my house and thought of you. 🙂
Ah, delivery! It’s the only way I shop.
Unless I do drive up and go!
You have learned memorable lessons from your grief. I knew immediately that you would find a purpose for your sister’s materials. XX
Marilyn, I don’t know how I missed your previous post. I’m so very sorry for both of your losses. I’m glad that the recuerdos are giving you glimmers. Sending warm hugs to you.
Thank you so much.
You’re extraordinary.
Naw, I’m just someone hugging the recuerdos and looking for glimmers in a really sad time. 🙂
Grief is painful and exhausting, especially when falling so close together. To lose a child at any age is unthinkable. I’m glad you’re reaching out through our blogging community, and I’m relieved that both kitties are doing well.
I’m so glad that the blogging community is here for me!
I am so sorry for all the grief and loss that you are going through right now, but so glad that you have these happy recuerdos to help you. You are so generous with how you are rehoming the yarn and fabric from your sister. Also, so glad your son’s cats have a new loving home. Hugs to you!
It has been an absolute awful summer! In truth, it has been a gift to find a way to repurpose my sister’s in a positive way. It would break my heart to send it to Goodwill.
At least you know it is going to a good cause to people who will use it wisely to spread warmth and comfort 🙂