I don't have much new crochet to show. I've dabbled here and there, sewed in some ends, played around with colors and began a stool cover (which I'll show as soon as a few more rounds are complete and I buy new batteries for my camera). Just haven't quite felt the desire.
Dad's alzheimer's continues to advance and I have seen marked deterioration, mentally, over the last week. Some days I can get him to respond to me, and others not so much. I find myself thinking back over the last few years. I wonder if I knew then just how precious those days were. I wish I could get them back. Now I take Dad for strolls, slowly walking hand in hand. I think about all the years he held my hand as a child, guiding and leading me, keeping me safe, telling me stories and showing me the wonders of the world around me. Now I guide and protect him, talking away to him as we stroll, hoping that if he doesn't understand my words he at least feels comforted, loved and at peace.
I have been spending time in my garden. We are getting the yard ready for my daughter's graduation party. But it also feels good, and necessary, to spend time tending things which will grow and flourish. My love of gardening and nature comes from my father. Dad and I spent many an hour in the garden - planting, weeding, dead heading, smelling the flowers, looking at the butterflies and talking to the squirrels. Working in the garden will always be a way to feel close to him.
My peonies have blossomed. I cut a few to bring in the house. I wish they could bloom all summer long, but, alas, I only have them to enjoy for a short time.