By Eric K. Taylor
Mom neither sat still well, nor wished to impose sitting on others. Aside from book club, church choir, cookbook club, and penning a novel, Mom spent her retirement volunteering in elementary classrooms, helping poor families with medical needs, tutoring, and crafting quilts.
Even when cancer tethered her to her couch, she didn’t want anyone tethered with her. “Oh, you don’t need to sit here with me. You probably want to be doing something.”
She struggled to finish her first great-granddaughter’s quilt. Patches littered her table. After sewing an inch or two, she’d sigh: “I’m so tired. I’ll tackle this tomorrow.” Then she’d rest her eyes.
One day, mom’s friend assembled a few blocks. My quilting daughter sewed a few more. Mom was thrilled. “I can sew some too,” I said, “if you teach me how to turn this on.”
As I learned sewing rudiments, Mom drifted in and out. But on waking, instead of shooing me off so I could do something, she’d smile. “Oh, you’re working on the quilt.”
Having stumbled on this way for her to be at peace with my sitting beside her, I snipped and sewed a whole second quilt: batiks; blue, green, and purple prints. I learned to wield seam-rippers, wind bobbins, align corners, not stretch or pinch fabric, and slip pins out while sewing.
As the machine hummed and stitched, Mom chatted and dozed, smiling at the growing blocks. I sewed, grateful for this way to sit together while her days spun down.
Eric K. Taylor’s writing has appeared in River Teeth‘s Beautiful Things, English Journal, Plough Quarterly, The Caterpillar, and elsewhere. He holds an MFA in writing from VCFA, and he’s the author of Using Folktales (Cambridge), and editor of Some Fruits of Solitude (Herald). He currently teaches English at Peking University in Beijing, China.
Image by Eric K. Taylor
This is indeed a beautiful thing. And the quilt will hold your love. Thank you for sharing this.
Beautiful quilt, writing and illustration of perfectly tailored love.
Beautiful witness to the mesmerizing power of being present to loved ones in whatever way presents itself,
Beautiful and tender, thank you
There is so much love stitched into this piece. Thanks for sharing a bit of your mom with us.
“As her days spun down” beautiful
Lovely. What an interesting way for your mother to respond to your quilting. I love this.
The manly art of quilting is sewn into your essay.
Many of the unexpected ways we are able to be present. Beautifully woven. Thank you for sharing.
Your essay warms my heart. Such a loving way of being with your mom.
Thanks for sharing!