Last night I heard a strange sound.  I realized it was me.  I was laughing.  Not just a small chuckle, a real laugh at a chag sameyach sign on the highway.  It was one of those I love living in Israel moments and it had me laugh out loud for the first time since I lost Gabbi.

Today I realized I was singing softly to myself as I was working on something.  Something else I have not done since I lost Gabbi.  My goal next week is to get back into the studio and actually play the piano for my own enjoyment if at all possible.

I am still sad and still feel like a huge piece of my heart is missing, but I feel like slowly, very slowly, I am reweaving the fabric of my life and remembering what it is supposed to look like.  It was always be a patch job over a huge hole, but at least the hole will hopefully be covered in some way shape or form.

I am still not at the point where I might screw up and accidentally rip out all the stitches I have so carefully started adding leaving myself needing to start from scratch, but currently, if I hold up my work and look at it I am pretty proud of how it is coming along.

It is like I am reweaving a section of a very old tapestry, and the new threads stand out as obviously different, but you can tell someone is doing their best to clean up an old piece and make it useful and beautiful again.  Some people are trained in such arts and do a stunning job and are able to match every stitch and colour.  The rest of us sort of muddle through and hope ot comes out looking somewhat decent and that it does not all fall apart the first time it gets used.