Attended the funeral of the mother of a dear friend of mine today. This is the friend who got me into quilting a few years ago. My friend's Mom lived in an apartment attached to her home, like a mother-in-law suite. After everything was over and we had a little time to talk my friend said, "who am I going to show my fabric to when I come home from shopping?" Really tugged at my heart. It reminded me of my Dad, and even though he's been gone for 10 years, there are times that memories are still very strong. My Dad was a great Cubs' fan, (I guess some things are passed on!) and everytime the Cubs would win (okay, no comments about how few times that could be) I would call my Dad. The first time the Cubs won after he died, my hand went to the phone, and I just paused. Such an empty feeling. I know how my friend will feel the first time she comes home with new fabric and can't go downstairs to show her Mom. Memories are precious. Hold them close.