New Post Cards, a Book, a Heart Rock and a new Project

I found another heart rock in my walk way yesterday on my way to the car to go to Dallas to sew with my mini group friends.  I picked it up, scraped off the mud (we've had a little rain lately) and dropped it in my basket to take with me.  I remembered to show it to only one friend while there, Andrea.  I photographed it on one of the postcards -- it's in the last photo.  I saw this heart shaped cloud while driving home from Dallas and sewing.

While there, I started a new project.  I've been wanting to make a "grief" quilt for some months now.  I asked if anyone could remember the stages of grief and Shelley and Andrea both got online and found them for me.  Andrea's website had 7 stages: 1. denial/shock, 2. pain/guilt, 3. anger/bargaining, 4. depression/loneliness/reflection, 5. upward turn, 6. reconstruction/working through, 7. acceptance/hope.  Shelley printed out the 5 stages that I am more familiar with: 1. denial, 2. anger/resentment, 3. bargaining, 4. depression, 5 acceptance.

I decided to go with the 5 stages that Shelley found and possibly throw in a little of Andrea's findings also because I didn't want the fabrics to be too think to sew.  I found fabrics to represent the different stages of grief for me.  For "denial" I used the orange and grey originally, but that wasn't really enough.  I later added the purples they are on the top of the quilt, thanks to Maxine and Kari for suggesting it needed diagonal movement and purple.  Everything on top of the red, represents "denial and shock".  Red represents "anger", the next fabric is a blue with red and blue freckles (or dots) which represents bargaining, then the black is for "depression" and finally the yellow peeking through is for "hope and acceptance".  I'm not there yet, but I'm hopeful that I will be one day.

As you can see the top fabrics are ripped and woven through each other.  They are very confusing, just like the feelings in the beginnings of grief.  The denial and the shock are so confusing, my very fiber feels ripped apart at times.  I had not trimmed the quilt to the point that it's at in this photo when I had taken it over to a part of the quilt shop that has all the thread.  I was looking for black and grey and maybe a dark purple.  An older woman saw my quilt at that point and said "oh what a mess!".   I turned to her and thanked her.  I told her it that it represents grief.  She said "Grace?"  "No," I said "grief.".  She said "Greece?"  "No, grief as in someone has died and I am grieving for them".  At which point she just looked at me with disdain and confusion and her friend dragged her away.  She just could not comprehend a quilt that was not of a traditional making/pattern/design.  That's OK.  Someday she may feel like ripping fabric and remember my "mess" and give herself permission.   

I've already stitched a broken heart into the quilt.  I plan to stitch tears into it at some point, but other than that, I'll just stitch and see what happens.  I don't know if it will be donated to the Quilter's Guild of Dallas' live mini auction in March or if I'll put it in the show.  Right now, the only thing I know for sure about it is that is not messy enough. 

My momma sent me a book that I got in yesterday's mail.  It's Making Toast by Roger Rosenblatt.  She said in her letter to me "It is amazing how it applied to both of our lives this terrible year."  She also said she felt that she was guided to the yard sale that had it.  I agree.  I loved every word of this book.  I read it very quickly and I plan to reread it again soon.  Then I may return it to momma and buy another one for myself, so that we can both have a copy.  It just feels like we'll need it.  I don't know. 











I've got some postcrossing postcards to share with you too.  The first is from Louisiana and is of the Superdome.  I didn't know the facts that are listed on the front of the card.  Fun.  Click on the photo if you want to read them yourself. 

The next one is from Spain and shows the Ebro River. 

Then I got a surprise card from a young woman that I had sent a card to in the past.  She didn't need to send me a card in response or as a thank you, but she did.  Very sweet.  It shows a fountain in St. Petersburg, Russia. 

The last one I have to show you today actually came in an envelope!  Also from Russia.  It shows a lovely hotel and speaks of hot air balloon rides!  That would be so nice.  Isn't the envelope pretty?  I love the stamps too. 

Pure Misery

Are you a woman? Do you remember what puberty was like?

Now, set that aside for a moment and think about the first time you experienced the loss of someone you truly loved. The first death of a close family member or good friend. This first, sour taste of grief is just gut wrenching. And as we all know, it doesn't get better with the next experience. You just know that you will live through it.

Go back to the feelings of puberty. Do you remember how miserable you felt? How you would sometimes cry for no reason that you could think of? How you would get so sad? I remember listening to this song that had excerpts from live news coverage when President Kennedy was shot, when Robert Kennedy was shot and from Martin Luther King Junior's "I Have a Dream" speech and then coverage of when he was shot. I would listen to it over and over and over and cry and cry. I remember hating myself at times and everyone around me other times. Those hormones flying around in our bodies are nothing to take lightly! They are mean little things, I'm telling you!

Well, as it turns out, my poor granddaughter #1 is indeed mourning her mother's loss and trying to understand it while she is indeed entering puberty. Lord, help us all. If you are reading this and of the praying sort, please pray. For #1, for her father and for her siblings who will be within striking distance.

Wait for it......

As you know, my daughter-in-law passed away a little over 5 months ago. My grandchildren are dealing with this with various degrees of difficulty. Right now, my oldest granddaughter (she's 9) is having a very hard time with it. The kids and their dad came down here to see us and other family members this weekend. Tomorrow, I'm headed up to Oklahoma about the same time they do. I'm hoping that having me up there for a little while will help her some.

I'll be checking in and trying to keep up with all of my fun things -- like postcrossing and the gift of jewels. :) I don't know when I'll be able to show you what I've gotten through the mail though because I don't know how long I'll be up in OK. So, y'all will just have to be patient and wait for all the extra fun when I get back. OK?

By the way, "wait" was the Sunday Scribblings prompt word for this week.

I found another Heart Rock!

I couldn't believe it! I was coming home from the post office.

I've been thinking a lot about my sister Teresa the last week. The last couple of weeks. Heck, the last -- almost 5 months now, since she passed so suddenly. I had gone to the post office twice today. I hadn't been to the post office at all this week. I've been in a funk and I haven't left the house. What can I say? I'm not really depressed, but I would much rather watch movies or work on sudoku puzzles right now than just about anything else on earth. OK, I'll leave the puzzles and movies to see my momma, son, grandkids and my best friends and maybe some members of my extended family, but not just anyone.

So, I go to the post office to get the mail and with the main objective of mailing my nephew S's birthday card. It just happens to be S's birthday -- today! Which means the card is already late. "S" is Teresa's youngest son. And I have a heck of a time remembering his birthday during a good year. This is not a good year.

So, I get home from the post office and I go in the house, look in my purse and there is S's birthday card! Damn! So, I grab up some of the postcards I'd had made to show the post office clerk and I head back to the post office. When I get there, I mail S's birthday card before anything else. Then I chat with Debbie about moo.com's postcards and show her the one of my son and grandkids. Then I show her as many as I can, until another customer comes in. Debbie loves postcards! Then I head home.

As I get home, for the second time, after finally mailing S's birthday card -- I find another heart shaped rock. This time in the walkway to the house.






I didn't put all that together at the time. It wasn't until I was sitting here writing this that I did that. I did think that Teresa was the guide to it though, from the beginning.

Although, after my oldest granddaughter called tonight, I'm not so sure. It may have been her mother M. She died 12 days before Teresa. My oldest granddaughter is having a very hard time with her mother's death. It has only been 5 months, but she seems so much worse now than earlier. I'm very concerned about her. I told her about finding the rock and how it was possible that her momma's spirit had helped me find it for her. That I'm going to give it to her when I get to see her this weekend and I want her to hold it when she's thinking of her momma. Dear Lord, I hope it helps. I hope I can help her. If Teresa is the one who really helped me find it. I know she'll be OK with this. She was heartsick over these kids losing their mom. They are all younger than her kids. It's a crappy situation for all six of these kids from these two families. Period.

Movies

I love movies! When I was much younger, I wanted to be a movie critic, but I realized that there were only a few of those jobs around and someone would probably have to die for me to get one. Now, at the time, I thought the only movie critics were the ones that I could personally pull up on my own TV in Dallas, TX -- so that would have been local Dallas area critics and the ones who had national syndicated shows. There was no such thing as the Internet back then or even home computers, so I didn't realize there were as many local movie critic jobs as there probably actually were. Then I realized that I'd have to sit through a lot of "crap" movies that I had no desire whatsoever to see and I kind of moved my dream into a different field.

I still loved movies though. Sometimes, my Momma and I would get together on a weekend day and she and I would see three movies in one day. I know that sounds like a lot, but it was fun to us. I'd just leave my son at home with his daddy. They got to bond and I got a fairly cheap day out. The price of a matinee was much less back then and I didn't have babysitting costs.

Now I live in the country where there aren't as many options, movie prices are much higher and they seem to all be made for teenagers or young men. There aren't that many that I go to the theater for any longer. I do miss that at times. Tonight, was not one of those times. I just watched Hachi: A Dog's Tale at home. I rented it from netflix. (Despite what I say after this, I did like the movie.) If I had watched it in a theater, I would have sniffled and my throat would have been extremely sore from trying not to cry in public. At home, I sobbed. This movie really tore me up. I won't ruin it for those who haven't seen it, but let me just say that it hit me hard. OK, I'll say this much -- to me, it was not just about loyalty, but also about profound grief. Which is probably why it hit home for me. My eyes hurt, are swollen and red and I only have half a box of tissues left. I'm off to see if there is anything funny on netflix on demand.