Spring Sparkle and A Soft Farewell

Here it is March the blustery farewell to winter and the dawning of the gentle warmth and fragrances of spring ... a time for new beginnings and for saying good-bye and finding closure.

My mother suddenly passed away in early February this year.  She was nearly 89 years old and in vibrantly good health.  I spoke with her almost daily and truly enjoyed hearing her voice, slipping away with her to her past when she recounted stories of her childhood, young adulthood waiting for my Dad to return from the War and the joyful reuniting of these two in the middle of the night at the railroad station after over 2 years of anxious separation.  As she would relay the colorful memories of both her life and my young childhood, in the back of my mind I warned myself that one day I would no longer hear her voice.  That day is here and I miss her terribly.

Needless to say, my creative energies have also been silenced during this time to my frustration.  I have found that, to my surprise, English paper pieced quilting has helped to soften the heartbreak and quiet the ache.  Mom was always so encouraging and seemed to delight in my sewing ideas  that I loved to run by her for her input.  It was just recently that I realized that I had picked up and assembled my first miniature Grandmother's flower garden hexagon blossom on the day that Mom died.  Here is a picture of what I have accomplished so far in that project, working in my free time on a daily basis since her death.  The quilt top is almost finished (the piecing part).

1/2" hexagon English Paper-Pieced Mini Quilt wip
(8" x 11.5" at this point)

It has gotten me this far and, I am happy to say, has helped me to remember her and the times we spent together on the phone laughing and remembering and in our own way celebrating her life.  This little quilt has helped me to get through those times when I found myself turning to pick up the phone to call Mom to talk about a favorite movie of ours or when I came to the sudden realization that I would no longer hear her voice or receive answers to questions about old relatives or old cars or just old times.

I also found that last night I awoke and was able to sketch some designs for a project I had been struggling with since Mom's death.  The images seemed to flow out of my pen, one after the other as if I was merely holding the pen and someone else was drawing the art.

So it seems that the fog is beginning to lift and it's time to get back to my creative ventures ... but, of course, I will never forget Mom and feel she is nearby ... 

Until next time ...