Two calls came in 2 weeks before Christmas. Ring ring. “Can you make quilts from clothes?” “Yes, of course.” “My son…was murdered….. He was 17.” Silence. Kids aren’t supposed to go first. They’re supposed to grow up in to adults. I thought about my own, now grown, children. I felt guilty.
The nurse in me is curious about the nature of the injuries. Was he shot? Stabbed? What hospital did he go to? What happened? I realize it would be highly inappropriate to ask her any of these. So I don’t.
The other call: “Can you make a quilt for my husband? “He was real close to his Dad and he just died last week.” Muffled tears. A change in breathing. The air is thick and heavy. Sometimes there really are no words.
Then after Christmas we finished a quilt for what would have ordinarily been her father-in-laws birthday. He didn’t live to make it. The quilt finished, she came to pick it up the quilt on the 28th for her husband. We received a print out of a post from him, thanking her for the quilt in memory of his father.
The baby clothes quilt was made for a newborn son that didn’t survive life. The clothes, were likely purchased in anticipation of his coming, or shower gifts. Now, no longer here, the cute clothes are transformed in to art, to help remember and imagine what it would be like if he was here. The quilting on this one is clouds. His name, removed for privacy, is embroidered at the top. In his absence, the quilt becomes a surrogate to hold tight and ease the pain that occurs when the heart strings are being pulled. Hugs to all that had a difficult holiday season.
Providing comfort and care at the time of loss. Doing whatever it takes to create a special memory for the loved one. Most times, they are living, fine and with us. But not always. As an old nurse once told me, “death is a part of life.” It’s hard to describe, but there is something very spiritual about honoring a loved one through a quilt. It’s a merger between nursing, providing care, and the art and creative interpretation of making a quilt. The process, for me, is very fulfilling. This is my purpose. This is why I do this.
