We left Cville today and visited with my life long friend, who, I discovered, is more of a knitaholic than I am. I loved seeing her stash and her many many lovely pieces. We have known each other for over 50 years.
This afternoon we headed east towards the bay and the ancestral home of my mother's mother's mother. We are spending the night here, in Aunt Lillie's House, on the water. Many childhood memories here on this land. Her grandson, my third cousin, re-built the house a decade ago.
This is the island where my roots are, and where my Nana and Papa are buried. We visited their graves and I cried. I haven't felt their embrace for over 25 years but I can close my eyes and smell Nana's face cream and feel her soft skin, and hear my Papa clunk clunk walking around the corner, tinkling the crystals on the hurricane lamps on the buffet. I can feel his crew cut hair and hear his soothing voice.
Knitting on the porch looking out over the water at Lillie's.
