It’s important to me, when creating this blog, to make everyone aware of the road that has led me here. Therefore my first post will be more about that journey than quilting or sewing although those threads are wound throughout this tale.
I began “blogging” but didn’t realize it on a site called Caring Bridge. If this is a new site name to you than consider yourself lucky. On Mother’s Day 2008 we found out that my husband Ron, love of my life, 45 years young, 6’4” hunk-a-hunk-a burning love, had a mass on his brain. Yeah, like that.
He was eventually diagnosed with Glioblastoma Multiforme stage 4 brain cancer. I googled it at the library that night and that is when I learned of our fate. If we were lucky, at his age, we would have 3 years. I figured if I was lucky I wouldn’t be googling the words glioblastoma in the first place...so no, we didn’t get that much time.
We exhausted every avenue of treatment, some experimental, most conventional. I drove Ron back and forth to UCLA for appointments, MRI’s, blood work, surgery. We road the roller coaster that is a cancer diagnosis. Along with us on that ride was our daughter Paige. She had just graduated high school and had been accepted to University in Western Washington, she wants to be a high school math teacher. Our son Reid, 14 at the time and so much like his father it’s uncanny.
In March of 2010 Ron’s brain began to swell from the pressure of the tumor which they could no longer control with chemo and steroids, they got his pain under control and sent him home with me where I tended his every need for 12 days while he died. He was aware and alert, walking and laughing, cussing and being cantankerous for 7 of those days. And then he wasn’t. I held him through the night, holding onto the small glimmer of life left in my man, but it didn’t save him, nothing could, and he died on Monday morning, March 22nd.
One year later when they tell you not to make any “important” decisions I have launched my pattern line onto the world wide web, opened up that file of sketches for new patterns and begun to sew again. The creative process has never left me through out all that we have been through. On treatment days after getting Ron settled into the chemo chair, his infusions begun, lights turned down low and the hideous pastel patch bed curtain pulled tightly around our two chairs. I would quietly open my basket and extract whatever applique’ project I had brought to work on for that visit. The nurses would always check on my progress, wanting to talk about “how do you make such tiny stitches?, what is that going to be when you are done? can’t wait to see it finished”. Lori Holt’s “A Quilter’s World” and Bunny Hill’s first free block of the month “Tisket a Tasket” were each completed in infusion rooms. I can’t look at either one of those quilts without being taken on a journey filled with hopes and dreams, dread and despair and love, so much love. You know I was lucky...I had 22 months to tell the man of my dreams every single day how much he meant to me, we left nothing unsaid, nothing undone and for that I am thankful.
My blog will be about stitcheries and stories. It was important that I tell you mine so that on the days when the grief stops me in my tracks you won’t need me to explain because it has all been said here already. Thank you for listening