Stitches of love

"There are no goodbyes for us. Wherever you are, you will always be in my heart."
Ghandi

Though my mother never knew it, she was an artist. She wasn't a painter, with a pallette of colors to cover a canvas. She wasn't a sculptor, creating images from blocks of stone. Her art was made up of tiny stitches of love.
My mother loved to make quilts and she made one for everyone in her family. The adult children received theirs on their birthday and the grandchildren, when they turned 16. It was her way of giving those that she loved, a piece of her, something to cherish even when she was gone. Something to keep us warm when her arms were no longer here to hold us. She put her heart and soul into each quilt, carefully choosing the pattern, the design, the colors, making sure it was just right for the person that it would go to. But the most amazing part of each piece she made was the tiny, perfect stitches. Thousands upon thousands of tiny, perfect stitches, done by hand, covering quilts that would take months to piece and sew, and hundreds of hours to complete. She could have completed each quilt in a matter of days if she had used a machine but doing it by hand was her way of showing us just how much we meant to her. Each stitch was a warm hug, a soft kiss on the cheek, a sweet smile, a hand held softly for no reason. Each stitch was an act of love.

She would get so excited when she had completed the next quilt, eager to show us, to see what we thought and hoping that it was alright. Even though it should have been obvious to her just how beautiful her work was, she always wondered if it was good enough, wanting it to be perfect. That's the way she was about everything she did for us. She gave her all.

Now that she's gone, seeing that quilt in the closet brings back a flood of emotions each time I see it. Just thinking about the hours she spent making those tiny stitches, just for me and each one full of love, causes me to hold it to my chest and cry. Not only tears of sadness because I want her back so badly but tears of gratefulness that I had her at all. To have someone that loves you so completely is truly a gift. My mother was a gift.