Saturday, November 17, 2012


My mother loved to quilt. She used to go to quilting classes at the local quilt shop all the time. She enjoyed learning new techniques so much, she would start new classes before finishing quilts from old classes. As a result, she acquired many unfinished projects.
When she passed away in 2004, the lovely treasures became mine. (Including her sewing machine and many, many tools needed to complete the projects.) One thing she was very good at was keeping the projects separate. Each unfinished project is in its own box, with all the pieces and parts, and in some lucky cases, the instructions too!
I am not much of a quilter myself. I love to sew. I have been sewing since I was 7, but i mostly sew clothing and crafts. I have only made two quilts before(both small lap quilts, one sampler and one around the world). So the idea of taking on these projects has always been a bit overwhelming. I remember going with my mother to the fabric shop and helping her pick out coordinating fabrics. I also remember helping my mom arrange all of her quilt squares on the living room floor once she finished them. Needless to say, it would mean a lot to me to finish these projects, but I need help.

Luckily I was talking about this with a lady from church, and she offered to have me over for a quilting afternoon at her house! So we spent a few hours today sorting out a king sized log cabin quilt my mom had started.
It was very interesting opening up, and working on this quilt. I didn't think I would get emotional, and it's not like I cried or anything, but I did have some pretty strong feelings today. There were feelings of excitement, memories of sewing flooding in, and a return of the emptiness of missing her presence.
All in all, I am happy to have the opportunity to work on this project, and I am so thankful for the community of friends I have at church. But I know there is nothing that will fill that void created by her death. But somehow, sewing together squares that my mother had cut, felt like saying, "I love you" all these years later.