Part Two: Lives in disarray

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Hexagon block quilt top photographed in March 2021.

The quilt above lives in the Midwest. Initially I made the EPP blocks assuming I would connect them not appliqued on solid squares but sewn together by hand. Yet my hands were achy back in late 2020, so that idea was scuppered for a more friendly version, which actually resulted in a twin being fashioned from excess blocks, call that a win.

The photo was taken in our old Silicon Valley backyard not long before we moved to the North Coast. Relatives in Wisconsin were to be the recipients of the quilt, but it wasn't going to live in their Midwestern home; it was going to dwell in Humboldt County where they would visit us when their winters were bitter and ours merely cool. We had our retirement house then, but weren't yet living in it full time.

That quilt top was carefully folded, then packed away. Then my husband and I made the big decision to jumpstart retirement living, and all our belongings were placed into boxes, heading several hours up the California coast, where we started a new chapter, one that would often include our Wisconsin beloveds. That quilt top resided in the small closet in my office/sewing room, awaiting the perfect time for completion.

But plans can be blown away in the time it takes for MRIs and CAT scans and PET scans; not quite a year ago one so loved in our clan was diagnosed with cancer. A treatable cancer, but also aggressive. Chemo was administered, prayers offered, hopes alight. In late spring I attached a cuddly lap blanket as the backing for this quilt, recalling from my dad's battle with cancer that despite warm temps outside, those undergoing chemotherapy are often chilled, and indeed this quilt came in handy as an amazing person endured a host of chemicals to fight lymphoma. And for a brief time in late summer, this awesome soul seemed to have won the battle.

Cancer is an insidious, vile disease. Despite many treatments proffered, our beloved is facing the end of his life. I won't discount the slender chance of some possible miracle, it happens. Yet I am aware those odds are extremely slim, and the most likely outcome is this person's corporeal death. The concept is sobering, shattering, shitty. The last six weeks have been geared toward the hope that a very intensive treatment would prove beneficial. And for a short time, the news was positive. Yesterday we learned that doctors feel otherwise, our beloved's health in a poor state. Hospice care is the next step, kind of hard to wrap one's head around something so final.

For most of yesterday I pondered this marvelous soul and the woman who loves him; their marriage is lengthy, their joys and sorrows having connected them in a manner that makes me ache for what lies ahead for her, separation from her soulmate. In partaking of matrimony, usually til death do us part is stated or implied. I don't know the essence of their vows, but I am pretty certain that element was included. And now that element rears its vicious head. It's a lot to fathom.

Public horrors aren't any more miserable than private hells, merely more visible. I built a fire last night, not wishing to be cold as I sat and stitched while the Warriors played an awful game against the Suns. That loss seemed to cap off a terrible day for our family, yet my beloved wasn't going to let it end on such a depressing note; suddenly Bluey was on our TV; Muffin turned up on her cousins' doorstep in desperate need of a nap. Bluey got distracted from a family game of hide and seek. And finally, in what has become my newest fave episode, Bluey and her family went "Camping". Bluey made friends with a youngster, Jean-Luc, who only spoke French and when she finds him gone, her heart is broken. Yet her mum Chilli remarks that maybe Bluey might see Jean-Luc again one day, because the world is a magical place. I went to bed last night with tears in my eyes, marveling at how joy emerges despite massive heartache. And today, in rehashing what has clouded my family for nearly a year since cancer was found, tears again spill down my cheeks. This nasty, mean-spirited, disease-ridden world is also a beautiful, joyous, magical place. More quilts, or at least more EPP is required, more Bluey too. And prayers and affection and the continued hope that all done in love will indeed triumph. Right now, hope is essential in all manner of things.

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