The Reboyfriend Quilt

Because of my uber-awesomeness, you wouldn't be surprised to hear that I am part of a quilting group. Because I can sew in straight lines most of the time and quite often get the seam width right, I think it's safe to say that I'm a master seamstress. 

Others might say that the quilt group keeps me around just because they're nice. And extra patient.

The rule with quilt group, is that you have to come. If you have five women slave away on your quilt top one month, it's not fair to withhold your own man hours when it comes to theirs. (Even if your man-hours = sewing the entire row wrong and then shoving it into Sandy's lap to unstitch the seams for you because your contacts are going to shrivel up and deform your eyeball if you don't stop).

There was one night where my invaluable man hours were excused. It was just a couple days after we found the wreckage, you know, back when I was not peeing? You surely remember.

Instead of sewing Kelly's quilt as scheduled, they changed course and did something beyond human. They congregated and skipped the wine (a permanent fixture for the majority of the group). They divided and conquered in an army of radness, gathering pictures and fabric and lyrics...configuring patterns, using flannel for backing and freehanding the meandered quilting. I probably couldn't even calculate how many manhours this took, but I have a rough guess, and confirmation from insiders...that it was a masterpiece.

Only a few weeks after the accident, I was a puddle when I pulled up to Kelly's house for what was supposed to be a little blubbering session with her and Sandy. After all, a plane crash widowed Kelly too, and hurt her own body so horrifically that she uses a wheelchair (and a service dog) to do her walking. She's always been a good listener and mentor. And the same goes for Sandy. I gladly accepted their offer to have me over for the listening ears and warm words.

But when I pulled up, the driveway was full of a big surprise. Mia, Lindsay, Kristin, Kylie, Kellene, Kelly, and Sandy's cars were all there. I walked inside, and there were candles with catered dinner and desserts and wines (and Diet Cokes) all over the place. I was late after dropping my sister off, and they were all patiently waiting for me. I broke down in tears when I saw they'd brought in my favorite drink from the night Rbf and I had our first dinner together at Ichiban.

They listened to me weep my feelings out, and we finished the dinner from our plates, and when it all quieted down, they brought out my quilt. Since I was already in tears before, I really can't remember having cried as hard as I did, other than the day we got the horrible news. Here was my quilt.

That night I went to bed, wrapped up in my blanket, and had the first sweet dreams I'd had since he was living. I haven't blogged this yet because I haven't known quite how to tell it. I finally decided to just post the pictures, and let them speak for themselves.

I may have to admit at this point, that they are master quilters. Like, they have businesses and win state fair awards. Although I am pretty proud of the fact that I can sew straight lines over squares of fabric, I think it's clear that I'm merely a guest, in quite talented company.

K, S, M, K, K, K, and L: I love you.