The First Butterfly

I'm here because of a small, simple things. Hope. Gratitude remembered. A smile. Laughter even when life is hard.

I'm here because of what happened the day I took my homemade butterfly to a cute 16 year-old new mother in my neighborhood who had just given birth. It was a day when it would have been easier to stay inside my little cocoon. But I had held her baby a few days earlier, and we started a new friendship.

I accomplished the "great feat" of getting outside myself by telling myself, "Just do it now. It might make her smile. Just get out the door." What happened next was amazing to me.

I'm here because of a small, simple things. Hope. Gratitude remembered. A smile. Laughter even when life is hard.

I'm here because of what happened the day I took my homemade butterfly to a cute 16 year-old new mother in my neighborhood who had just given birth. It was a day when it would have been easier to stay inside my little cocoon. But I had held her baby a few days earlier, and we started a new friendship.

I accomplished the "great feat" of getting outside myself by telling myself, "Just do it now. It might make her smile. Just get out the door." What happened next was amazing to me.

She not only smiled. She was really touched and her family treated my paper butterfly as though it were a precious gift--and I forgot about myself in the process.

That was my first step in discovering the magic of butterflies. Give one away.

I'm here because of the way I felt two days ago when my mom and sisters came to see me after my cataract surgery. (Going from 20/2400 vision to 20/20 in a mere 15 minutes is something that is hard to put into words.) And how did I go blind in one eye in my 40's? What's with that? No family history. I think I was meant to see in different ways.

They came to see me, but we ended up sitting around the kitchen table coloring butterflies to give away. Something magical seemed to happen the minute we started. We began to laugh, share stories and memories, and enjoy the connected silence as we sat and colored just like when we were in grade school.

Let's see that eye, dear.

Gwennie and me. I can see out of my right eye again!

Mom and Leese check out that eye.

Cute Gwen. Me in the robe and eye patch. Lovely.

Lisa's butterfly

Gwennie's "Sorry I forgot your birthday" Butterfly

Mom's Butterfly

My "I can see again!" Butterfly

My twin sister, Gwen had forgotten her husband's birthday, so she ended up--whew--making a butterfly for his birthday card. My mother made one for him, too, and my younger sister, Lisa decided she'd choose who to give it to later. I kept mine to celebrate the gift of sight.

This was the next step in discovering the magic of butterflies: Sit down side by side and make them together.

Cheers!

P.S. This post is from October 2008. I got the initial idea for butterflies after the Goodreads group, Chicks on Lit, began discussing the Houston Museum's Butterfly Project, in honor of the Holocaust victims, and all who suffer. One Million Butterflies, I guess you could say, is a sister project.

She not only smiled. She was really touched and her family treated my paper butterfly as though it were a precious gift--and I forgot about myself in the process.

That was my first step in discovering the magic of butterflies. Give one away.

I'm here because of the way I felt two days ago when my mom and sisters came to see me after my cataract surgery. (Going from 20/2400 vision to 20/20 in a mere 15 minutes is something that is hard to put into words.) And how did I go blind in one eye in my 40's? What's with that? No family history. I think I was meant to see in different ways.

They came to see me, but we ended up sitting around the kitchen table coloring butterflies to give away. Something magical seemed to happen the minute we started. We began to laugh, share stories and memories, and enjoy the connected silence as we sat and colored just like when we were in grade school.

Let's see that eye, dear.

Gwennie and me. I can see out of my right eye again!

Mom and Leese check out that eye.

Cute Gwen. Me in the robe and eye patch. Lovely.

Lisa's butterfly

Gwennie's "Sorry I forgot your birthday" Butterfly

Mom's Butterfly

My "I can see again!" Butterfly

My twin sister, Gwen had forgotten her husband's birthday, so she ended up--whew--making a butterfly for his birthday card. My mother made one for him, too, and my younger sister, Lisa decided she'd choose who to give it to later. I kept mine to celebrate the gift of sight.

This was the next step in discovering the magic of butterflies: Sit down side by side and make them together.

Cheers!

P.S. This post is from October 2008. I got the initial idea for butterflies after the Goodreads group, Chicks on Lit, began discussing the Houston Museum's Butterfly Project, in honor of the Holocaust victims, and all who suffer. One Million Butterflies, I guess you could say, is a sister project.

Comments

[Dawn Delgado]

This is so awesome! You truly have a blessed family! My mom passed away 4 years ago and it was amazing how the little things that people did meant so much during such a difficult time. Before my mom passed, one of her friends made a quilt for my mom and since her death, I routinely cuddle up with that quilt. It just makes me feel like she is hugging me again! I really love how artistic and thoughtful your family is! Please don't ever take ANY of it for granted... one day it may be gone.