A Letter to the Quilt Maker

I guess I need to start off with a tad bit of info so that you can understand the following letter (of sorts)...."The Quilt Maker" is a name that refers to my long time neighbor growing up. My family moved in when I was a whopping year old and we were neighbors until last year. I have so many memories that were shared with her. Memories that range from watching "The Wild, Wild West" (an old show about the real lives Billy the Kid & such) while waiting on the bus to run in the mornings to the last visit we had working on a quilt that I am yet to finish. She passed away last year and my heart still hurts today. I try to focus on the good times, the lessons learned, the legacy she has left in my soul but it's hard sometimes. This was a "letter" that I typed up on my livejournal account last month as a way to try to cope a bit.

(MaryHelen, lil' Bubbie, & her great-grandson Will)

Days have gone by. Months even. I'm not really sure but for some reason I had myself convinced that this would become easier with the passing days. Boy was I wrong! Every little things reminds me of you. My heart misses you so much. We had just reconnected after years of no contact. Even then, I thought of you often. Wondered what you were doing. How you were. There was so much still that I wanted you to teach me. The rest of the ends and outs of sewing. How to use the embroidery machine. We never got to finish the quilt we started. It's hard to even imagine finishing it without you. I want to SO badly but the tears always cloud my eyes. The tears always blur my vision and make it difficult to even see straight.... You didn't even get to meet my daughter. But boy, you would LOVE her.

You've visited me in my dreams a time or two. My waking hours find me missing you. My dreams are sweet as if you are still here. Most would say that you are still here. Your presence can be found in the machines & cloth that you passed down to me. My hands are able to touch the same pages that your have thumbed though numerous times in the books you gave to me the last time we visited with one another. However, all these things are bitter sweet memories. Your memories make me smile, do not get me wrong, but then again- I'm not coping very well. Letting go has never been a strong point of mine. I want to still be able to pick up the phone and call. Your number is still in my phone. It's been how many months now? In the late hours of the night I even called it by accident once. Then again- at the time maybe it was a sign that I had needed. Still... my heart hurts.

This year is bringing so many wonderful things my way. The spiritual side of me hopes that you are above watching and rejoicing that things are finally going right for me. For the kids. We are on the path of things being comfortable for us. Things are improving above my highest expectations and yes, I'd like to think that you may have had a hand in it all. Yes- I'm sure you are up there watching. Cheering me on. And if you did have a hand in our success... Thank You. And if not, Thank you anyways.

I could take hours to Thank you for the things that you have given me over the 25 years that I have known you. It would take days to cover the exact amount of gratitude that I have towards you. But no, I chose to keep these things private between you and I. As my mind ticks off each bullet point I can only hope that it helps my heart heal. The hurt is too much at times but then again, at least I was able to know you. Those years you looked over me. The numerous memories and conversations we shared; These are the things that will take me down the path of grieving.

I miss you. I love you. And above all- I'll continue to make you proud.