The last few days prompted a conversation wherein an old high school friend opened up yesterday and told me about her being a survivor.
I asked her her favorite color.
(Solis colorway. I had knit up all I had of that. I was actually out. I had to do something about that.)
Today I kept feeling like, go to Green Planet.
Cottage Yarns in the opposite direction has a better inventory on all things Malabrigo.
Go to Green Planet.
I finally said a little prayer, and felt like, yes already fer cryin’ out loud, honey, Green Planet.
Well alright then.
I brought the pair of needles I would be using, went there, found just the thing, waited while they wound it and dove right in, both the knitting and the conversation at the table.
Some old Purlescence friends happened to be there, and one of them asked me how I was doing. I told her the last few days had been pretty intense.
And with that everybody felt permission to talk about it and the conversation got going. Of the five of us sitting at that table, four had followed every hearing and every update.
The fifth, a younger woman, had not; she wanted to know but she’d shied away from finding out and was not even sure what the story was, and it hit me: we’re talking to a survivor and it’s still all too close to home for her. But we did not pry and we did not ask.
The woman across from me started talking about Jeff Flake and the woman in the elevator confronting him, demanding, Look in my eyes! We come to the courts for justice! We who are hurt, who have suffered injustice, we look to the courts and you want to put a rapist on the court! There are many of us and you ought to be ashamed! We come to the courts for healing, for justice!
I chimed in that Flake had gone back to that hearing room and had still voted yes–if. If the FBI were given a week to investigate, then yes, move the nomination to the floor. If.
Something changed in the room.
The witnesses will be interviewed after all.
The fifth woman gathered up her things now and said she had to go, but she had one request: could she give me a hug?
Yes! (Oh honey yes. Yes of course.)
She thanked me and then headed out the door into the waiting daylight.
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Thank you for sharing your experience.Goes to show when G*d talks, we’ld do well to listen.
I’m glad that woman sat with you, listened and got hugged!
Comment by Suzanne 09.29.18 @ 12:29 pmLeave a comment
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