I realized with some surprise last month that I followed my own instructions.
My dear Aunt Colleen asked me if I was trying to get my needlepoint project done in time for my sisters' birthday which was less than a month away. I replied that I was in fact trying o complete it for that same date, only for my parents anniversary instead. (My sister was conveniently born on my parents 10th anniversary.) I explained that I felt the significance was that this project was the first thing I've made with my hands since probably middle school art class, and that it was probably more suited for Mom&Dad.
And although I hadn't made this connection directly before, I went on to say how one of my instructions in my eulogy at Brendan's funeral was to "make art":
"... Just SEE ART where you haven't before because Brendan taught me that art is where we may least expect it.
Then make some."
As I was explaining this to Colleen it made me think of something I wrote in a letter to Brendan last week:
"I started writing a blog and I think you'd get a kick out of it. You know I can't draw or sing but the words come out of me in a way I like most of the time, and I'd like to think you'd be proud of me."