On somebody's calendar, it's been decreed "I Need a Patch For That Day."
Hmm, I know there's an explanation for that proclamation out there somewhere, but I got to thinking how sometimes we just need a patch for the holes and tears in our lives.
Two of my high school friends have endured deep, personal, unexpected tragedies in just the last two weeks. The voids are unfair and beyond comprehension. There's no single piece of rugged material big enough to cover those holes at this moment, and even then, the binding stitches would be uneven and shaky.
A dear friend who copes with a loved one's Alzheimer's has gaping holes of silence now in a household that for years was filled with laughter and conversation. She and her husband used to discuss and solve all the world's problems before they'd even get out of bed in the morning. Now he says nothing unless prompted and even then, the responses are never enough to patch the silence.
Each of us has pockets full of tiny patches that we can place in the hands of those who need it most during their daily challenges. Distribute them freely, yet with compassion and purpose. The recipient will hold them and then carefully thread their own needles and stitch them into place at their own pace, even if they're a little crooked.
As someone who can barely thread the needle, I find this sew, I mean so, comforting …
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