A Prayer For J

A Prayer For J

My pile of strips.

I sewed and cut until I had nothing left.

I scribble quilted angry lines.

November was filled with sadness and heartbreak, and I have been crying and quilting.  A delightful, vibrant student’s mother was murdered. The details are so terrible I don’t want to name them, and now this child has moved halfway across the country.  When my class said goodbye, we saw a gaunt face and vacant eyes. 

I needed to sew.  I pulled out strips of dark colors and pieced them together with no plan.  I find there is something calming in this repetition.  It slows down the chaos in my brain.  How can anyone heal from this violence? In sorting through feelings I realized I long for this child to have a sense of routine, a feeling of normalcy.  I cut out blocks and added a woven pattern.  In stepping back to look I was surprised by beauty.

While making this piece, my dad had a major stroke.  For several days I didn’t know if he would live.  As his situation stabilized there was realization that his life may now be completely changed.  So the hope for my student “J” who is 8 became the same for my dad Jim, in his eighties.  Then a coworker with school-age children passed away from cancer, her battle similar to my mother’s death over 20 years ago.  I blocked this out of my mind and quilted angry lines.

I’m confounded by unexpected beauty in this piece.  I don’t want beauty.  I’m angry that hearts won’t heal, that life won’t return to normal, that children will deeply miss their mother.  A friend said there’s a lesson here.  Maybe it serves as a reminder that God is with me.  And so I’ll say a prayer.