The sky was the brightest blue. The grass was glowing and green. Brilliant little bursts of yellow scattered across the lawn. The long spiny branches cast soft wavy shadows on the green canvas, providing for us the most pleasant shade.
We sat under a grand oak on the memory quilt, which I made by hand the year of my wedding; when this whole adventure started. As I stitched each square and rectangle together, the memories recounted the stories through the textiles of my wardrobe, of my last childhood days, my fun college adventures, and the days that lead me to that time I stood in front of the most beautiful barn in a white dress facing the one who stole my heart. This quilt in all its perfect imperfections and mix-matched fabrics, shapes, and threads holds the pages of the first volume of me. The beginning. The years that set me on the path to who I am now, days before turning 27, artist, dreamer, avid coffee lover, mother of 2, and wife of nearly four years.
As I took the large quilt in my hands and spread it out, all kinds of surreal washed over me. My little boy happily running in the grass, soaking in the sunshine, observing the great world, as children were meant to do and my little lady snug in the sling next to my heart. I placed her upon the quilt, near the squares from that Sweden track jacket that I loved and my delta pi t-shirt from 2003 and the Southeastern soccer shirt. It was a moment where the past met the present, those wonderful college days provided a soft place for my second born child to rest and kick her newly discovered feet in the toasty sun.
That flowery tank top that I needed in high school, the commemorative fine arts event shirt in a poorly picked color. Student life logos from college. The square from my baby blanket. One silky square of pale pink flowers from a blanket given to me by my great grandmother.
Then and now swirling round and round in a most delightful dance of life.
Next to the grand oak, on the greenest grass, under the bluest sky.