Sixteen years ago, I created a counted cross stitch picture as a memorial to the baby I miscarried. I remembered taking it along in my purse to a store to purchase a suitable mat for the frame I had selected. That is all I remembered.
For years, I have wondered what ever happened to the cross stitch I had worked so diligently on. It wasn't just any old cross-stitch. It held tremendous meaning for me. I was so crushed that I couldn't find it.
Then, this weekend, I went down into our basement to root around in our storage boxes for a suitable frame for the Thomas Kincaid print I purchased last week at the thrift. There were several frames in a box full of decorations I used to have up in our older apartments (from when we were first married). We moved to a small house when Bryce was one and I guess it just felt very temporary. Plus, there wasn't much wall room for decorations. So, this box has been in storage for fourteen years.
Here is what I found:
When I pulled it out, I had to say "Awwww!" I was super thrilled to know that I didn't lose it in a store (apparently something was up with my memory skills even back then because I didn't even remember framing it). Since I didn't include a last name on it, I had always assumed that even if someone had found it, they would have been unable to identify the owner.
I am overjoyed. I showed it to the boys. They know all about my baby Colin. Now this memorial can be displayed again.