Hello, crypto friends!
Here's today's post, Sunday, January 12, 2025, which came to mind while threading a needle.
Yesterday, as I prepared the thread and needle to repair one of Evie's toys, my dog, memories of my grandmother asking me to thread the needle came flooding back...
"Alfredo, come here! Thread the needle!"
"Yes, Grandma."
She never said, "I'm old and can't see well enough to thread the needle." And we never questioned it. We assumed there were tasks where we, the children-grandchildren, had to help. I remember she always called us to do things:
"Wash your cup, wash your dishes after eating, water the plants..."
She passed down much of the Aztec culture to us. Grandpa too, making us move bricks piled in the yard from one side to another, only to move them back again. I used to wonder, why did we move them if we had to return them? But we never questioned our parents or grandparents. If they heard even a hint of protest, oh, the scolding we would get.
Something that amazes me about memory is that I never noticed a big change; I always remember them as old but as if they stayed the same age since I can remember. Sure, at the end of their years, they seemed less strong, but I never saw them as aged.
Beautiful teachings from grandparents!
And last night, as I set out to thread the needle, I wondered if it would take me an hour to do it, because at 57, my eyes aren't what they used to be.
To my delight, I managed to thread it on the third try.
And so, Evie's toy has a bit more life.
