“Of all the ways to lose a person, death is the kindest.” 
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

The last few years have been difficult, so much death, natural catastrophes, and world news that makes my heart hurt. In the last 6 years, I have lost my father and mother, a grandmother, a father-in-law, and an uncle. When my father passed, I was just getting into natural dye again and working with indigo. The musky living scent comforted me, especially during that hard time. The process of working with my hands, dipping and submerging them into the warm bubbily blue, watching the textile transform before my eyes, made me remember to be hopeful for the future. That textile became a gift tucked away with my father at his burial and it makes me smile to know it is still with him. There is only one letter difference between "dyeing" and "dying," and when I make that spelling error, I smile to myself, because they are really not that different to me now.