First of all, I don't know what I was thinking when I decided to hand quilt The Moose. This jumble of fabric and batting is so unwieldy that it really takes effort to move it this way and that -- manipulating it in the directions I need to. What a mess.
I've quilted two blocks so far. Yep. Two. That's it. At this rate, it would take me 47 more days to just quilt all the blocks. But things never go "at this rate" for long around here.
I've done a lot of thinking as I've worked on this quilt. You see, when I made my Mom's, I made it with a dear friend. My sewing machine was on the fritz, the girls weren't in school yet, and I spent many afternoons working on it at her house. The kids would play, she would scrap, and I would sew. And sew. And sew. And eat Little Debbie Oatmeal Cookie Creams.
Once I was ready to quilt it, I drug it all over. To her house and back again. She stitched the holly leaves into the little green squares for me. It was synergy. It was friendship at its finest, because as I stitched we shared. We shared everything. Talking about this or that. I loved that time.
But this Big Thing happened a few months before my Mom passed away. And Poof!! There went the friendship. All of it. Zip. Flip. Gone.
It was too much. And in many ways it was really too much. I moved away from the home we had built, away from my friends, lost my Mom and lost that friendship in a span of just a few months. And I grieved. And in many ways I think I've mourned the loss of that friendship more than the loss of Mom. By the time Mom passed away, I was grown and gone. And while there was a connection there, of course there was, things were different. We didn't see her that much. And while she was only a phone call away.... Things were different.
But in this other relationship, I lost someone who was more sister to me than friend. Someone who knew almost everything there was to know about me -- my thoughts, my fears, my hopes. She knew my challenges, my struggles, my successes. The only person who knew me better at the time was Biggsy.
Forgiveness was a long road, but we've reached the destination. But the friendship is gone. And as I stitch I wonder why I had to lose something so very dear. I wonder what part that loss has in God's great plan. I answer the "Will we ever see them again?" questions from the girls. And I still mourn that loss.
2 comments:
D'Lyn, I think I know exactly how you feel.. with the exception of daughters asking the "When will we see them again?" Q. I had a very dear friend through high school. We were joined at the hip! I loved her dearly! And we had a falling out too. Months and months after that happened, I'd still cry in the middle of the night missing her. I felt like I'd never have a friend as good as her again. I felt like that connection was irreplaceable. But now I'm becoming better friends with a girl that I think just might become my best friend. It's in the beginning stages, and we live about an hour away from each other, but we are so much alike and have so much fun together. It's weird isn't it? I mourned the relationship I had with my friend more than I mourned the break-up with my boyfriend at the time. And women need that. They need that connection with another woman. They need a best friend. I know I sure do. So I'll say a prayer for you to find that connection again.
Love,
Mindi
D'Lyn,
I think most of us have had this happen to us at least once in our lifetimes. I know I have.
I still don't think she understands why what she did hurt so much, but. . . she's been forgiven. Unfortunately, the friendship just didn't survive.
The really unfortunate part is that it has made me extremely loathe to trust women who might someday fill that role as best friend and confidante.
*shrug* -- it all shakes out in the end, I suppose.
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