Tomorrow it will be one month since my surgery. In my dream last night I was clothed in a heavy coat, trying to get up into a tall vehicle, and unable to lift my leg to get in. Over and over I tried, like we get sometimes with our pajamas or nightgowns caught up in sheets and too sleepy to figure out how to untangle ourselves. So that’s how it felt in my dream–like I couldn’t go forward, couldn’t get up in that car that was going to take me somewhere. I was stuck. I woke up, trying to get oriented. The house was quiet, as I had slept in really late and my husband had gone. I stumbled into the shower and began to cry. Why is it that tears come so easily these days? The doctor said it will take six to eight weeks to recover from surgery and I’m only at week four. So I guess I can expect some of this. It just drives me crazy, that’s all. I just want to be me again, an impossible wish.
But as I dressed, still teary, I asked myself that question I do sometimes when I’m in a stuck space: What do you want to have accomplished by the end of this day? What do you want to have done?
I don’t ever need to write it down, because it’s only one thing I have to identify. And today, I wanted to have the Valentine Quilt sewn together.
And just knowing that pulled me into my studio, got me sewing the little white squares on the end of red strips, cutting, ironing, and what you see is up on the pin wall at 2:00 p.m.–leaving me the rest of the afternoon to sew it together.
The original is 64″ square–and 8 by 8 square quilt. I just need mine to hang up in the hallway, so I went with six by six. That will leave me some extra squares to make some pillows to throw on beds.
So, the bottom line is I made it through my funk. I climbed up into that imaginary car today — bum leg and all — and got going. I dried my tears, straightened my shoulders and began sewing the cloth together. Like I imagine hundred of other quilters have done before me, in good times and bad.