Younger Me, a Starling Quilt, the Farm and Pony Rides from Aunt Sarah, and Hansie Turns Five

The other day I received a text from one of my old Israel roommates. "Look what I just ran across," it said. And then came a photo of a smiling 22-year-old version of myself--tanned (from a responsibility-free summer of hiking and pool lounging), lean, and void of even the finest wrinkles--standing with arms around my roommates at a wedding reception.

I showed the picture to Mike. "Look," I said. "That was me the summer we were dating; just before we got engaged."

My voice must have betrayed a hint of longing for that thin, youthful version of myself because later that evening, as I snuggled into Mike on our couch (with a sigh of relief over being done with the day's tasks), he kissed me and said, "You are every bit as beautiful to me now as you were in that picture you showed me."

Objectively, that can't probably be true. But, I don't know, maybe, in some way, for him it can be. Something to do with knowing and loving each other so well for so long. Like how I love looking at the lines on his face when I'm lying next to him in bed at night. It's kind of a lovely feeling. 

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Speaking of Israel roommates. Jill (the one right next to me in the above picture) made a quilt for Starling! (And here's an interesting thing. Jill and I hadn't even seen each other since that above picture until last February when she came down from Seattle to tour BYU with a graduating daughter and all four of us roommates got together for dinner. She has since moved to Rexburg and was driving through to Provo when she stopped to hand-deliver me this latest quilt. Quilt number five!)

It's a lucky thing she didn't take up quilting before a solid ten years into my days of marriage and birthing children had passed. As it was, I already felt a little guilty to keep announcing babies ... knowing Jill would have to keep making quilts. (And I do mean "have to". Apparently Starling has been flitting from her crib at night these past nearly-three years--haunting poor Jill. "Whhhhhhyyy haven't you made me a quillllt? Whhhhhy?!👻 OoOoooh!" At least that's the only way I can account for poor Jill, who hasn't been quilting at all lately, waking at nights and anxiously thinking, "I still haven't made Starling her quilt!") Can you imagine if she'd taken it up clear back when I had Abe? Dear girl!

But truly. Her quilts are amazing. AMAZING! And not just because they are undeniably beautiful, but because she quilts a story and symbolism all unique to them and their names right into their quilts. And it's remarkable how often the thoughts she has expressed in her quilts have actually echoed very specific hopes I have had for each particular baby. Somehow she pours a spiritual gift of vision into her quilts. She left the card telling me all of the reasons for colors, etc. at home, so I'm waiting to read it all, and I need to take more pictures, but look at the circles in the photo below. From two strips of fabric representing me and Mike she cut and sewed ten unique circles. (They all look like little nests.) Because this is Starling's quilt, she is showcased in the circle surrounded with little birds on triangles. But there are also nine other red squares--each with a little bird--on the quilt (coming, or perhaps going, or perhaps some of both) from their little nests created by me and Mike. 

Can you believe it? 

I love that each of my kids are woven right into Starling's story. And there her place is: highlighted in the family. I told Jill that her gifts make me feel like "getting your quilt" should be part of some ancient, start-of-life ceremony where you officially have the beginnings of your mortal story acknowledged, and your unique place and offerings within your family set in motion. 

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And a place in our family? Well, shrug, it could be worse! 

Here are a few goings on:

A very cold stop by the farm:

And a lucky stop by Aunt Sarah's! (She happened to be out feeding her new calf and, when we stopped by, unannounced, she saddled up the little pregnant pony and walked the kids around the yard. (And then sent us home with a box full of goodies!)

And one last little event: Hansie turned FIVE!

I know, Hans, I can't believe it either. (Except you did learn how to spell "poop" the other day all on your own, so there must be some aging going on. I mean you might've said it at any old age, but to spell it? Well. That's something. [Face palm.] Also, the other day you told me that "when you were a kid" you thought Valentine's Day was "all about kissing". [And I told you it was all about kissing for me and dad. 😁 And dad told you that now you were wise enough to know it was "all about candy".])