butterfly effect

I started what I thought was going to be a straightforward project yesterday: a fitted lid box with a double-sided window in the lid, into which I'd planned to display a butterfly I found at Penland.

Only as I started thinking about this particular butterfly, it became clear that I have a lot to say about what happened around finding and being with this little guy as he died.

So instead of whipping out another box, I'm letting this process unfold as it will. So far, it has me journaling about death mostly. Not in a morbid dark way, but in what feels like an honest way...about the people I've been with as they died and what was happening in my life at those times.

This week marks the second anniversary of Maggie's death, my maternal grandmother with whom I was very close. She died on the last day of our honeymoon. I swear, she waited until the wedding and honeymoon were over. It makes sense that I'd feel something now, but I didn't see it coming. Slowing down to listen to the stories my butterfly is asking me to tell is having its intended effect, I suppose.