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Patchwork Days

Patchwork Days
When I was a little girl I was blessed to stay at my maternal grandmothers home each and everyday. All of the big kids would go to school, my parents worked and I was taken to Granny Maxwell s house. This was during the very best days of my life, before the dreaded divorce of my parents and even more before we left my beloved farm. These were the days of laying in the yard on a breezy day and watching the Silver Leaf Poplar tree leaves blowing in the wind, shiny and glistening, feeding the scary chickens, only scary to me since I had been “flogged” one morning. I now believe I had actually fell down and all the feed fell all over me and they were only eating, it just happened to be pecking me into a scared frenzy. Poor chickens, it really wasn’t their fault, though I am still traumatized! I digress!


These were good days and they were the beginning of many good and bad days. This is what makes up a full life, days filled with ups and downs, twists and turns that take us to places we might not ever expect to be. These are the times of our lives that make us the people we are to be. They are like the squares that are so delicately sewn together by the strong and faithful hands like my granny’s. Many days were spent playing underneath the huge quilt in a frame with four or five elderly women, church women, no less, who worked their magic quilting this work of art which would end up on the beds of its creators.


The Chronicles of Narnia
The Chronicles of Narnia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


The stories that a young girl would hear, not too terribly offensive unless you were the particular church lady that was the subject of conversation or maybe the preacher or even the husbands of these sanctified women. While playing there it was always a special world, not Narnia, but fun even so, the rolled down stockings and the black discreet shoes, no high heels in this group. Printed shirt dresses and everyday work clothes. It was a world of simplicity and a creative vibe that I have carried with me ever since.


Our own lives are like that, we don’t know when we wake up what the day will hold, a patchwork of sorts, stitched together with love and laughter and this makes for an edgy and frightful; fun-filled and possible eye-opening batch of realities that make up the moments of our own lives. My life, so far has been filled with many days that have caused me to pause and take stock of where I have been and where I am going.


How much of the time have I wasted and what portion has been fruitful? Were my decisions the best ones or should I have thought more about the results of my actions? Well…..yes, of course. If I had thought more I may be better off….but then also if a person thinks too much we may never get anywhere. Hence the dilemma that I usually find myself in. Thinking ahead is a good practice and I usually do but to the degree which stops me cold and causes me not to do anything useful… procrastination sets in and another one (day) bites the dust.


So I have to take stock of a life lived the best way I can, I can’t look back, those days are gone, but ahead to what will someday be that completion of the quilt…these patchwork days that are what makes me… Me. My quilt may not be the best but it is mine and if I learned anything from my granny it is to keep on sewing!

Posted by Rosemary Mcknight Fritts at 10:04 AM


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