Bedtime story

My dad told me a bedtime story tonight that I thought I would share with you guys. Here goes.

Once upon a time there was a very special lady. She was strong and tough and sometimes even a little mean, when she had to be. In fact, Dad said she reminded him of some other tough ladies who did some very important things in history.

But she also had a soft side, if you got to know her. One of the things she liked to do was crochet afghans. She'd get started and just go for hours at a time, row after row, blanket after blanket, until she ran out of yarn. Then she would buy some more yarn and start all over again. When she got a new bundle of yarn she would have her grandson unravel the whole thing and then roll it back up into a big ball. For whatever reason that was the way she liked it.

When she got older, after her kids moved out of the house and she retired from the factory, she had a lot of time on her hands - especially after her husband died. Which of course meant she started knitting more and more. Once, she started knitting a baby blanket for a great grandchild. By this time she had gotten a lot older and her mind wasn't as strong as it once was, but she was still tough and she could knit as well as ever. Her tired old hands would work so fast you would think she was a teenager working in the factory again.

Her son knew something she didn't know. While she had only one great grandchild, he knew that others were on the way, even if she might not be around long enough to get to know them. So when she finished the first blanket, he got her some more yarn and told her to keep going. She didn't ask any questions, she just kept knitting and knitting so fast the blankets seemed to finish themselves.

Finally, after she finished the third blanket, she stopped. And then she slowly drifted away, having lived an extraordinary life during some of the most amazing times in America's history. And those three blankets? No one knows where they went. But Dad says sometimes at night, if you close your eyes real tight and if you fall into a deep deep sleep, you can almost feel one of them snuggle you up and keep you warm. And when you do, you're supposed to think about that little old lady sitting there making that blanket, not sure who she was even making it for, but doing it with the same love and bullheaded determination that she showed in everything she did.

And that's my story. Dad seemed pretty chocked up when he told me this story tonight. Not sure why. I'm actually not even sure why he told me that story tonight. But it was a good one, don't you think?

Anyway, goodnight Dad. Goodnight Grandpa. And goodnight Great Grandma, wherever you are...