Months ago, my cousin Mary invited me
to tell her women’s group about The 70273 Project
and help them make blocks,
and today, that’s just what I did.

A huge number to be sure.
A huge number that causes eyes to glaze over
as people struggle to find something . . .
anything . . .
relatable and understandable.

70,273 perfectly imperfect people
murdered, sight unseen.
It’s sobering, unfathomable, incomprehensible. . . .
especially when someone mentions a friend, then a grandson
who would’ve definitely received two red X’s
were we living in another time.

There is the teensiest bit of nervousness
as is inevitable for people who don’t make things every day.
But quick as a snap,
stories are flying,
memories are bubbling up,
plans are being made to gather and make more blocks
. . . maybe even an entire quilt.

Twenty-four more people are commemorated.

It is a good day.