My 19-year marriage had ended unexpectedly and badly. My best friend lived halfway across the US; we stayed in touch, and I visited her, but she never visited me (her husband is controlling and didn’t like for her to be gone).
The day after I’d called her with the news, she called me back and told me she was coming to see me in a couple of weeks.
She comes to visit, I take time off work, and things are going well. Then she tells me there’s a quilt show she wants to see. So, we go to the quilt show.
If you’ve never been to one, there are rows and rows of quilts hanging up so that you can see the entire surface of the quilt. Any noise is deadened by the hanging quilts, so everything is hushed and even though there may be a lot of people there, the way the quilts are hung makes your viewing experience seem very private. Each quilt has a sheet of paper with the artist’s name, the quilt pattern name and a brief history of the quilt pinned to the side at eye level.
My friend surged ahead of me, and I come up to a gorgeous, eye-catching pink and black quilt. I read the sheet — and it’s one my friend made and she MADE IT FOR ME. She’d picked the pattern — Road to Oklahoma — to celebrate our shared roots. She hadn’t been in any hurry to finish it until my marriage ended…and she rushed to finish it, found this quilt show, called the guild, got it entered and shipped it off, all to show me how special I am to her.
She came up behind me and hugged me when I started crying. I still have the quilt (which is now sadly worn)…but the one I use today is the one she made me for my second wedding.