Sleeping wee ones

I had the previous wool post set automatically for this morning, and although the sentiments expressed about wool are absolutely sincere, I feel that it's a bit insensitive in light of the Kim family tragedy.

I've been reeling about it last night and today. When I think of Kati and her two wee ones (virtually the same ages as mine), my heart just feels cleft. I know that my husband would have tried to do something to find help for us if we were in that situation. It was so courageous of James, and then so heartbreaking to hear that he was only a mile away from the car when he was found. I feel so very sick with sorrow.

This family will remain in my thoughts and in my heart for a long, long time. I'm finding it hard to be eloquent today, but I wanted to acknowledge this tragedy because it is weighing so heavily on the hearts of so many.

I'm ashamed that it takes a devastating heartbreak like this to remind me of how dear my own family is. It is so easy to take it for granted and to feel weighed down in the "dailiness" of life, especially with small children. But even now, my sweet wee boy is snuggled up, asleep on my bed wrapped in a cozy wool blanket, and I can hear my darling girl in the living room, softly singing to herself and playing a lovely imaginitive game; while I have the luxury of sitting in my own craft/office space with the warm western sun shining through the window. This afternoon, I get to teach 4 cello lessons to  bright, interesting, and individual students ranging in age from 9 to 16. And we'll have braised chicken for dinner. After my lessons, I'll drive our 13-year-old helper home, and when I get back, my dear husband will have washed the dishes, and we'll spend an hour or two chatting, drinking wine, and knitting (well, only I'll be knitting). I have so little to complain about and so much for which to be grateful.

I pray for blessings for Kati, Penelope, and Sabine. I pray that we all remember how important and sacred our time here with our families is.