Mels Quilt

I’m starting to really like this whole tidying up thing.  I’ve unearthed a lot, but more importantly, I’ve found space.  In particular, I’ve found space on my desk.  I have a particular fondness for a specific Ikea desk.  It’s basically a slab of melamine with four legs that get screwed in.  I particularly LOVE the version I have right now because it’s the biggest one you can get . . . which means I have lots of space to spread out and tackle any number of creative projects.

With all this new-found desk space, I decided that today, as it is “finish-it-up” Friday, I would finish up my quilt.  The brief backstory on this one is this: in the weeks after my brain surgery, as my baby girl was outgrowing the need for the million and one receiving blankets I had purchased for her, I decided to make not one, but TWO quilts out of the blankets; one for her and one for me.  I figured that as she grew up, the quilt could go with her, and she could always feel like she was wrapped up in my arms.  I also figured that as she grew up, I could snuggle into it and remember the lovely times we had when she was still a baby.

Fast forward 4 years . . . her quilt has been done for about a year now.  Mine is unfinished.  So off I went this morning to the sewing store to pick up some pink flannelette fabric for the back of the quilt.  Me being me, I got into a discussion with the owner of the store that led to a discussion about wedding dresses that turned into a conversation about changing body size, and from there it was a hop skip and a jump to the topic of tumours.

Turns out, one of the other store patrons, also a mom of young kids, is also a brain tumour patient.  Her tumour was gone.  But now it’s back.

Here’s where I follow another train of thought for a moment . . . about 8 years ago, I met this fantastic lady in a scrapbooking store.  We got to talking about infertility, she shared her stories with me, and her words gave me a whole lot of comfort during a pretty challenging time in my life.  The next time I went into the scrapbooking store, the owner of that shop handed me a piece of paper with some phone numbers written on it; the lady had taken the time to write down contact information so that she could help me more.  I still have that piece of paper; its a reminder to me of how helpful virtual strangers can be, and how acts of kindness, no matter how small, can have a profound effect on others.  (As fate would have it, I would run into that lady 4 years later; she’s the french teacher at my kids’ school.  She’s now taught my son and is currently teaching my daughter.)

But I digress . . . today it was my turn.  I took out a piece of paper at the sewing store, wrote down my name and email address.  And asked the owner to pass it on in the event that the other mom ever wants to talk.  And just like that, a part of my life has come full circle.