Where your heart lives.

Kathryn's quilting; showing love with her hands.

I have never had a migraine, but I understand how debilitating it can be.  Day in and day out, the pain my wife experiences must be exasperating.  On good days, she will get some quilting done.  She feels guilty about not contributing around the house more, but she has only enough energy to do a quiet activity before fatigue overcomes her.  Quilting is something she can do that gives her purpose and is a way to show love to those close to her.

Kathryn has always enjoyed making pretty things with her hands.  Needlework, cross stitch, working with a scroll saw, knitting, sewing, beading, the list is endless.  These have been some of the many crafts she has embraced in the 35 years of marriage.  They have all gone by the wayside; now she only has quilting.

We both have a job to do.  Mine is to keep the place running.  My goal is to encourage her to spend time quilting.  If her limited amount of energy can be put into creating a quilt for a loved one, she feels good about herself and creates something beautiful.  Then she can gift away her time to someone she cares for.

My daughter-in-law (left) and son (right) have their birthdays close together.  And so, for the last few months, my lovely wife has been working towards a creation that would bring joy and warmth to them both.  What you don't see are the backs, both made of fuzzy-plush fabric that begs to be touched.  The other thing you don't see is the quilt she made for their child, Nora.  For our first grandchild, Kathryn made a small quilt with the colourful pattern of Chanelle's quilt on the front and Josh's cats on the back.  It's to keep her dolls warm.

Kathryn's heart lives in her sewing room where she creates quilts for those she loves.  In spite of her daily struggles, she manages to get a bit done each day.  My heart lives to help her, to free her hands up to make her creations.  I would like to think that our hearts live together, working in tandem to give a gift that will outlast either of us.  The undulating sewing machine needle moving as a heart beat, its rhythm a metaphor of love.

Thanks for reading.

Eric Svendsen     www.ericspix.com


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