Loss of a love is excruciating. Best friends are not supposed to desert you: leaving you to turn calendar pages, take morning walks, watch beloved sports teams, and feed the cat without them. Sometimes we discover occasions to prolong their presence. Designing and sewing Hospice Quilts offered such an opportunity.
It began with too much floral fabric! And really I could blame my best friend, Chris Kevern, for contributing to my excess piles of hiding hibiscus, huge hydrangeas and hanging heliconia. Chris purged her fabric stash when she was very ill with cancer. Even though she loved the dancing dandelions and tiptoeing tulips, she knew she would not sew again.
Chris’ last days with her best friends and family were spent at Genesys Hospice in Goodrich, Michigan.genesys.org Caring loving workers held our hands and they wrapped our Chris in loving comfort and homemade quilts. I remembered the quilts as I fingered the floral fabrics. Perhaps I could honor Chris’ memory with a quilt sewn all with floral fabrics? Genesys Hospice said, “Of course.”
As I sewed for Chris and Hospice, I listened to my dear son-in-law describe the wonderful home care his mother, Marty Greening, received from Heartland Hospice in West Branch, Michigan.hcr-manorcare.com I remembered my friend since grade school, Betty Sue, describe the comfort Angela Hospice, Livonia, Michigan, provided her husband, Al. Shortly after Al’s death Betty Sue would also succumb to cancer. angelahospice.org
And of course I remembered my own Hospice story. We had Cranbrook Hospice, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, for a week: the horrendous nightmare of a week before David Galley, my first love, my high school sweetheart, the father of my children, my beloved through old age (I thought) died. During that horrific week, I asked the Hospice worker only one question, “How will it happen?” With quiet words and dignified details, she talked to me; never minimizing my fear, shock, and terror.
One quilt grew into four. All were floral in design, except David’s which burst in a rainbow of color. The fabric selections were from my own stash, enhanced by Chris’ additions. As I cut, pinned, and sewed, I remembered memory tidbits of each person: Chris identifying flowers for me, Marty laughing and hugging at our children’s wedding, Al and Betty chomping M & Ms as we played another game of Hearts and dear David sacrificing romance to honor my request, a sewing machine for a wedding present. Sewing the quilts prolonged their presence, brought them back into focus to chat a while. I honor Hospice with gifts of quilts, but I honor my beloved friends by remembering their stories and their lives all over again.
Dear Sharon, I read your words and tears come. The emotions, the honesty, the vulnerability with which you write is beyond words that I can find. Your soul bared in all mediums - so prolific with your time and heart. You MUST dream in color and stereo. I am so very grateful to be reading and seeing you in your work. May God continue to bless you with his love.
ReplyDeleteLove, Pat