A Long Denim Jacket and A Walk Down Memory Lane

During my father’s first military assignment in Crete, Greece, we lived in Hersonissos, a large village by a harbor. I was a pre-teen then, but I do remember its beauty and its kind people. I also remember my mother gathering with the village women each evening in a circle of chairs outside on the patio of one of their homes. For hours, they would sit, talk and crochet. My mother taught herself to crochet intricate doilies, both large and small, by watching the women. She made gorgeous pieces for me and my sister as well as our children. I still have these pieces today and plan to pass them on to my sons and their families in the future. Each one is a unique piece of art that takes on such a special meaning because they were created by the hands of my mother. Continue reading “A Long Denim Jacket and A Walk Down Memory Lane”