Not so under wraps, but not quite done yet either

From yesterday afternoon once I attached the last two rows to the lower section.

However, I am itching to write about this quilt, maybe because I've been silent concerning the surprise cozy. So despite having to sew together the first seven rows and the last six rows, here's a post about a saturated colour quilt that has captured my heart in a very intense manner, as though it's the last quilt I'll ever make.

Hmm, that's a bit of an overstatement. I glance around, searching for Future Me. No sign of her, which is for the best. Because this post isn't about Past Me or that all-knowing aspect of myself, ahem. Nope, this is about a highly beloved bunch of rainbow squares that were arranged with barely a second thought nearly two weeks ago. Before Renee Good was murdered. Which I mention because her death certainly impacted how much I adore this quilt, yet not in a melancholy way. More in a how vibrant was her existence, how meaningful. How lively and warm and how can I assume to know that much about a person I never met? What I know of her is the same as anyone who investigates her name on the internet. Yet, in these strong hues, placed on the design wall two days before she died, an indelible essence heaves passion and love and hope all about the space where this quilt resides, be it in chunks on the wall, or lying in stealth behind me, those two sections pinned at nested seams, awaiting me to finish this post, then secure them permanently via my sewing machine.

Sitting so quietly, but with great purpose!

 

Stealthy but pulsing with energy, with hope, with life. This rainbow quilt, with an autumnal backing that is still coming together on the design wall, could well be the most outspoken yet lovingly humble cozy I ever sew.

They're just coloured squares, you know. A few from Moda's Grunge, some from Alison Glass' Sun Print 2025 collection, and several from Shayla Wolf's Foundation 2 line. Cut into five and a half inch squares, they were stacked and waiting for me, and I was tired of the blank design wall after making the quilt sandwich for the Under Wraps project. Two years ago, when my brother-in-law Stan died, I made three rainbow quilts for beloveds with whom I humbly shared his last days. Oh my goodness, is that the connection? I make rainbow quilts when a dearly loved person passes?

Not that I knew Renee Good, let me reiterate, but she was a beloved wife, mother, daughter, friend, etc, to many. For as much I loved Stan is the same as Renee is cherished. And when a deeply missed soul moves on to their next destination, maybe a rainbow quilt is absolutely NECESSARY to get us to the next place in life too.

Wow.

Okay, deep breath taken.... Still no sign of Future Me, but I bet she's smiling nearby, not having wanted me to note her teary face, because I can feel her heart throbbing as I type this, mine certainly is. And all of these immediate revelations only make this rainbow quilt even more precious. My goodness, I didn't see this coming when I impetuously started this post!

But sometimes life is just that way. Renee Good had no flipping clue her life would end the day it did. Too brief, or so we think, but God had need of her in His realm. Which isn't meant to negate the blessings she applied to her corporeal existence, or to lessen the pain her family endures. But we don't often get to choose how we die, and many times it seems far too brief of a life, how I felt with Stan and others to which I have said So Long. But that is merely my dim view of the subject, wholly imperfect and completely subjective. And that's fine, because I am a wholly imperfect human being, and it's VERY HARD to be objective when terrible things happen. Or what looks without purpose in our imperfect view.

The back of the rainbow quilt, a work definitely still in progress....

So there you have it, and a whole lot more than I imagined was coming. It's nearly lunchtime, my husband just inquired as to when I wanted to eat. After I finish this post, I thought but did not say aloud, lol. There's a protest this afternoon at the Humboldt County Courthouse I wanted to attend, but my meniscus still aches and this morning I felt lightheaded and.... And in those two issues alone I know God wants me to hang out at home today. But He also wanted to impart some vital truths, which stand as my invisible spot on the sidewalk, hoisting a banner or sign, wishing to make known 1) That LOVE matters most and 2) HOPE remains. And may you enjoy a beautiful, rainbow-riffic rest of the weekend!