In Pieces

My two precious grandsons sit on the quilt
that I made for my son for Christmas of 2003!

It would be my first Christmas without my beloved husband of thirty-two years. I found myself in a store buying flowers for his new tombstone as I watched others buying decorations for their Christmas trees. I found myself sorting through the remnants of his life as others prepared for family get-togethers. I knew I must find something constructive to do in the midst of all the pain.
Walking into our closet, memories flooded my soul as I saw five of my husband Mike’s favorite shirts. When our son, Ben, was in college in the early 90’s, the big flannel shirt became the fashion craze. I purchased two or three of those heavy ‘big shirts’(as they were called) for Christmas for Ben and every time he came home for the weekend, Mike would raid his closet and come out wearing one of those shirts. It became a joke. For the next few years, I bought Ben and Mike identical flannel shirts for Christmas. Ten years later, those shirts had continued to be Mike’s favorites. In fact, as he started chemo and felt chilled much of the time, he lived in those shirts.
Taking the shirts off their hangers, I laid them in a corner of my sewing room. I knew I must do something very special with them but it took a few days to get the courage to cut into the shirts. Perhaps dismantling them bore too much of a parallel to what had happened to our lives.
I found I could get several 8-inch wide strips from the front and the backs of the shirts as well as from the sleeves. Then I cut those strips into as many squares as I could, and soon I was sewing the squares back together and a quilt began to emerge.
As friends looked at my work in progress, they commented on what great choices I had made for my color combinations. Actually, I had not chosen them. They were just all of his shirts, and together they formed a beautiful color palette.
It seemed impossible to finish my project by Christmas, but I was determined. For
such a sad Christmas, there just had to be something special to give Ben, and I knew this was it. I asked God to give me the strength to complete my project and day-by-day the quilt grew larger. I sewed the labels of the shirts in some of the squares and deliberately cut strips with
pockets so that it would always be evident that the quilt was made from shirts. To finish off the project, I bordered the quilt in navy and then I machine quilted the whole
thing in a free hand motion style. I was able at times to turn my free hand motion
movements into words.
Within the quilt I wrote Whitley, 2003, Mike, Pam, Ben, Steph, Jack, and Will. I wanted this quilt to be a treasure for the generations to come. I could envision one day our grandsons searching the borders for the names woven into the design and Ben sharing fondly the memories of his dad and the shirts
On Christmas, as our son opened his gift, tears welled up in his eyes and the look on his face and the hug I received was salve to my hurting heart and I knew God was at work using the shattered pieces of our lives to bring forth treasure in the darkness.
by Pam Whitley