Sometimes we wonder why things happen the way they do, only to shrug our shoulders and say "Hhmmph" and we never know why. But sometimes once in a rare while it all makes sense why this or that happened or didn't happen for that matter. Today was one of those days when things fell into place and I saw the light and it all made sense.
Months ago I registered to take classes at the International Quilt Festival with Cindy Blackberg. I sent in my registration, and as I have always done in the past, I asked my husband to make my hotel reservations at the Hyatt in Rosemont, Illinois. Somewhere between preparing for the final test for his CPA exam and dealing with his boss who "got resigned" (you know... they give someone a chance to resign in good standing instead of being fired) I should mention that this is the 4th CFO the company my husband works for has resigned in four years. So knowing he had a lot on his plate I didn't hound him about my hotel reservations, until a couple of weeks ago. That's when I found out that he hadn't made the reservations and then found out that the hotel was oversold.
Since I was still in the window of receiving a full refund I dropped my classes and got my money back. I've tried not to be too cross the last couple of weeks, but I was looking forward to taking the hand piecing classes that I had signed up for. Plus I could really use a short trip away to catch my breath before we start our next school year and before things on the farm get out of hand with planting.
Many times over the last couple of weeks, my husband has tried to talk me into staying at a hotel close to the quilt show so that I could still go to the show and do a bit of shopping at the vendor mall. Hard to turn down an offer to go shopping, but something told me not to go. Each time I went to the web site to make the hotel reservations something kept me from completing the transaction. I must have logged into the hotel site a half dozen times over the last few weeks and something made me think that I would be better off at home.
And then this morning it all unfolded in the slam of a door and in the panicked voice of a little boy. "Mom, Sissy had a baby goat...and it's not moving, hurry Mom!" And in his eyes I saw what he couldn't say, "Please don't let it die." As we ran out to the barn I tried to remember everything I had read about goats and kidding, what to expect, what to do. And when I got there I realized that I wouldn't need anything that I had learned about baby goats. The kid had been born many hours earlier and was ice cold. My heart broke and hasn't recovered from the look on my child's face as I knelt in the straw next to him and had to tell him that the baby goat was dead. As we took care of the mama goat we hoped that she would deliver a twin or triple, but it wasn't in the plan. What was in the plan, was for a mom to be there when her son ran in the door and need her most.