A perfectly timed gentle nudge is a quite welcome thing indeed. I'm especially grateful for one I had last week while reading one of our favorite family books to the boys. While reading and talking about that book, I made the decision to put aside all other crafting, work and house projects for a bit to complete this one thing that's been in the back of my mind for several years now.
This lap quilt is for my dearest Meme. My dear, sweet Meme who had a stroke four years ago, and now struggles quite a bit. She struggles to know who we are, and to know what's going on around her. But she feels it and still knows so much - I can see it in her beautiful eyes, and I can feel it in her hands when I hold them. Before her stroke, old things were always so important to her - among other treasures, she was the keeper of the trunks full of family photographs. And now, while her life has completely changed since her stroke, photographs have remained a constant - they've become the main focus of her days. Looking and remembering.
I've been wanting to make this lap quilt for her for a while now. But many things kept getting in the way - not the least of which being that I don't really *love* the photos-on-fabric thing. And choosing fabric that I know she'd love but that I might not enjoy working with. And gathering the photos, and trying to make sure everyone was equally 'represented'....well, you know, I just kept putting a million little things in the way of getting this done. Until that moment with the boys, when the three of us were talking about how we choose what the most important thing is in each moment. And there was this quilt - coming up from my heart, and suddenly clearing all the clutter out of my brain, telling me that this single most important thing I could be doing with my time right now. And so it was. Gone instantly were all the nagging and stressing details about the project, and in it's place were energy, passion and a flood of memories (and tears) and love that I then put into each and every stitch.
After a week of work on it, it's now done. I know that it's not the most aesthetically beautiful, the most complicated of designs, or even the most precise of my sewing...but I do know that this is one of the most important things I've ever made. I have no grand illusions that she'll be able to say much to me about it, nor, sadly, that it will be enjoyed by her for years more to come. My greatest of hopes for it is that it will bring this woman that I love so very much just a little smile, and perhaps a small moment of joy. And so now the most important thing I can do - plowing through all the excuses and details in the way - is to make the journey to her to pass it from my hands to hers.