~ The pieces are all sewn together, stitched with love.........and a quilt tells a story and the story is our past ~
The Arrowood family immigrated from England to Maryland in the 1700's. They went south, eventually settling in the mountains of North Carolina. Later , some went further south, into the Piedmont of North Carolina, in search of work and a better way of life.
I am in search of my family.
I search for those that came before me, and lived their lives as best they could. I am in search of their stories, how they lived, and how they loved.
I shared this love of seeking the past with my Dad, sharing each new finding with him, the thrill in his heart intermingling with mine. I continue this search in his honor, and hope to know these people of ours when I join up with them all in heaven.
~ Steve Lewis Arrowood 1932-2008 ~
Come with me, back to a simpler time and place. A place far removed from the hectic pace of today. To a time when life was hard, but the rewards were great. When your quality of life was determined by your own sweat, your own toil, and your own ingenuity.
Would you like a glass of sweet tea? Let's sit out on the porch where we will catch the sweetly scented breeze of summertime. Maybe Grandma will fry up some of her wonderful chicken... Time slows here.
"We shape our lives not by what we carry with us, but what we leave behind."
~You live as long as you are remembered.~
"Our most treasured family heirlooms are our sweet family memories. " Author: Unknown
"But those who came before us will teach you. They will teach you from the wisdom of former generations."
Saturday, October 23, 2010
On our recent search for family, I came to a beautiful setting, nestled in the colorful hills where some of our family, now rests. A quiet hillside cemetery ablaze with the colors of fall.
There was a slight chill in the morning air, as a mist hung heavy on the mountain.
The air had a certain quiet stillness to it as I approached the gate to this country cemetery. This trip was long awaited, I was so excited to finally be there. I reached down and unlatched the gate and stepped inside. Quiet and still air, all around us.
As I came to the first headstone and read aloud the name, I noticed something in the grass at my feet.
The leaves of many colors were strewn about on the green grass and something out of the ordinary caught my eye.
Many cultures have long taken the assumption that a feather on your footpath has a deeper meaning.
Some say that it is message from the divine, other say it is simply a feather, lost in flight.
I like to think that it is a subtle message from those that care about me, that are now gone. A simple token sent down, to let me know that they are thinking about me. They are never quite gone from me.
A light angel feather, floated and swirled down from heaven, lost from a wing.
I bent to pick it up and smiled big. Tears coming now, for sure. My Dad, no doubt had sent this one. He was with me in spirit and I could almost feel him there beside me.
I had so wanted him to go to see this place with me, we had planned on it, and now, I feel certain he was at least watching down on me. It was almost like a mini hug to my heart.
That feather came back home with me and will stay with me, a treasured reminder.
Be on the look out for "angel" feathers, along your path, too. Angels are all around us.
What a comforting thought!