QUILTS MADE WITH LOVE

I've lived in many places and learned many years ago that moving all my possessions only weighed me down. Leaving furniture in several cities where I lived and buying the latest furnished house suits me. The current furniture collection will be left for the next owner of this abode.

I've mastered letting go of most things, not living and even some living things, which means I've been alone most of my adult life!

Books are usually given away as soon as they are read. I won't reread them because it would take me many lifetimes to devour the excellent literature available now and in the future. Besides, what better way to show love than to give someone a book you've enjoyed and know they will, too?

A few years ago, a wildfire was coming perilously close to my house. The local authorities imposed mandatory evacuation. After seeing smoke rising above the trees across from my residence, I packed everything I needed in a hurry. My most loved possession in the house was my dog. I quickly gathered Paddy, his dog food, my laptop, my passport, my phone, and a change of clothes and fled in my car. Luckily, the once-raging fire was extinguished about three blocks from my house several hours later, and nothing I owned was destroyed.

After having the harrowing experience of evacuating, one naturally reassesses what's essential to keep and what's important to let go. I would have lost many pictures from years past, and my granddaughter's artwork taped to the walls, but I had everything I most wanted to keep: My dog and my life.

Yesterday, I made my bed and exchanged the comforter for a quilt my aunt had made for me many years ago. As I read the inscription of "Aunt Ruby 2003, made with love," I grieved for her again, even though she's been gone from this world for ten years. I remembered the many family reunions Aunt Ruby hosted at a church camp in far northeastern Oklahoma on the shores of Lake Tenkiller. Memories of playing games, swimming, cooking, eating, talking, and laughing came flooding back. They were the best of times, surrounded by the people I knew best and loved me anyway, even with all my flaws. Aunt Ruby was the embodiment of love. She was always in charge, but everything she spoke and did was from a place of freely giving a part of herself. Aunt Ruby was a diminutive woman with a considerable presence.

My Aunt Jeanne made a quilt for me at least 30 years ago. It's always been spread across one of my beds, although it's beginning to show signs of wear. I think of her generous and loving spirit whenever I look at the quilt. The past couple of years has made visiting with family members challenging, but the memories of my precious Aunt Jeanne are always present. I hope to see her in the next few months.

My mother and Aunt Ruby made the quilt draped across my lap right now. Mother meticulously embroidered horses and flowers, with my aunt sewing the backing and border. Inscribed on the quilt are the words "Stitched with love for Dana 2003, signed by Mother and Aunt Ruby."

I also possess beautiful quilts made by my grandmothers. None of the quilts are stored. I want them displayed all over my house so that when I walk by, I'm reminded of my mother, aunts, and grandmothers. I can feel their loving arms wrapped around me. My daughter has no interest in the quilts; they will likely be trashed after I'm gone, but nothing on this earth lasts forever.

If I ever must evacuate again, the quilts (and my granddaughter's art) are also coming with me! In the meantime, though, I'll be warmed by the quilts and hold close the memories of the beloved women who made them.