My granddaughter got married and the quilt I made them is on their wall
My youngest granddaughter got married back in June and I made her and her husband a wedding quilt. Double wedding ring, but I done it my own way, not quite even, the way I always do. She cried when she opened it and I told her hush now, that's just some old cloth.
Well they came by the house Sunday after church and I walked in their little place and there it is, hung up on the wall over their sofa. Not folded in a closet, not on the back of a chair. On the wall, like it's something. My grandbaby said "Mama Gloria, we wanted it where we could see it every day."
I sat down on their couch and just looked at it a minute. Thirty years ago they wouldn't have called what I do art. Now my own grandchild's got it hanging in her living room. I didn't say much, just sat there and let it land on me. The Lord's been good to let me see that with my own eyes.
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That got me right in the chest. The way you said "that's just some old cloth" and then they hung it on the wall like it was something. It is something. It's the closest thing to holding a person that a thing can be.
My father used to mend his own nets, after every storm, sitting on the wall by the harbor with the needle going through the same knots he'd made a hundred times. When he passed, my mother kept one of them, coiled in a basket by the door. Not for anything. Just where she could see it.
I think we tell people we love them in thread and cloth better than we ever manage in words. Your granddaughter knows what she's got.
Oh honey, that got me too. Your daddy mending his nets, sitting there on the wall after every storm, that's a love I know by heart. My grandmother used to say a needle don't lie, and I believe it. Every stitch is a little "I'm here, I'm here."
And you know what, I think you're right. We say more in thread and cloth than we ever get out in words. Your mama keeping that net in a basket by the door, not for anything, just to see it, that's the truest thing I've read all week. She was holding him every time she walked past.
You keep telling the stories, honey. That's the other half of the work. 🙏