Becoming a Basket Case: How Grief, Glue Sticks, and Time Together Became a Form of Self-Care

Recently, I had the opportunity to spend a few weeks in Southern California with my sister. The purpose of my trip was tender and long overdue: to spend quality time with her and finally plan a joint celebration of life for our mom and dad.

Our mom passed away over 14 years ago, and while we wanted to honor her, we held off because our parents had a very specific wish—they wanted a joint celebration. So, we waited. My dad passed away just this past December, and although it was incredibly hard, we knew it was finally time to honor both of them together, just as they wanted.

Saying it was difficult to go all those years without closure is an understatement, but the ceremony we created together? It was beautiful. Peaceful. Exactly what they had envisioned.

While I was there, I also wanted to show my sister some much-deserved love and appreciation. She was the one who stood by our dad’s side during his final years, and I wanted her to know how much that meant—not just to me, but to all of us. Her presence gave us peace, knowing Dad was in good hands.

Between emotional moments and sharing memories, we stayed busy with practical tasks—cleaning, sorting, fixing, and freshening up our parents’ home. But the most unexpected and healing part of the trip? Baskets.

Yep. Baskets.

It all started today when after picking up the mail I found myself unable to throw away a small delivery box. I had this wild urge to save it and turn it into a basket. So naturally, I texted my sister and asked, “Am I becoming a basket case?”

The truth is, my sister and I grieve in very similar ways. We both find comfort in staying busy and tapping into our creativity. While we were together, we built benches, created a little Zen garden, installed screen doors and blinds… and then, after a long day, we’d unwind with a glue gun and bits from Mom’s old craft stash, turning boxes into baskets.

We had so much fun the first night that the next day we found ourselves at the craft store stocking up on supplies and hot glue sticks like it was Black Friday.

That’s when it hit me: this is what self-care can look like.

It’s not always a massage or meditation (though those have their place!). Sometimes it’s losing yourself in a creative project, laughing with your sister over crooked ribbon, and honoring your parents with the kind of togetherness they would’ve loved.

If you’re someone who needs to do something with your hands to process heavy emotions, you’re not alone. For us, this wasn’t just crafting—it was bonding. It was healing. And every basket we made now holds more than craft supplies—it holds love, laughter, and layers of memories.

The older I get, the more I understand how sacred time really is. And how healing doesn’t always look the way we expect it to.

So yes… I’ve officially become a basket case. And honestly? I think Mom would be proud.

With vitality & joy,

Terry
#BlueJeansandBerries