Stitching my world back together
Corona virus, flowers, Ryan, sewing?
The day Ryan died, I was in the middle of making this flower I had crafted to stitch together a hole in a favorite shirt.
I was waiting for him to come downstairs for our planned walk. As I worked on the shirt, I texted him a couple of times to ask if he was okay, since he was running so late.

After the shock of finding his body, and dealing with the dozens of emergency personnel that go along with a tragedy like that, I found myself back at the table, numbly stitching away on this flannel.

Over the next few weeks, while I still could not bear to speak to many people, and my chest twisted up into shards of pain with every breath I took, I found myself still stitching.

The creations were an outlet for me, my mind could wander with memories of my boy, as my hands stayed busy. 
I have never been into sewing, but embroidery seems different. I call it “painting with thread”. After surgery, early in March, while Covid was amping up, I could be creative while elevating and icing my knee. 
So luckily, I was already immersed in the hobby and had a selection of supplies out, when I really needed them. 
Having these shirts to keep me occupied, didn’t take my mind off of Ryan, but sewing them did give me quiet time to think about him and I could feel myself being stitched back together a tiny bit with each flower.

I can’t say that embroidery has brought me peace, because I feel like breathing will always be painful now.
But I think it has helped me along towards peacefulness by the repetitive and simple process of pulling the needle in and out of the fabric and by choosing pretty colors to put together.

Ideally, it is best to be working on these flowers while listening to wind chimes in the gazebo. And after a long walk on the trails Ryan and I had walked together on over and over.

The walks can be tough, each step reminds me of a laugh or something he said as we passed in that exact spot. I have learned to never go on a walk without wearing pants with pockets and filling those pockets with tissues.
And to never waste tissues on tears. Tears can drop on my feet, or on the sidewalk, but snot really shouldn’t. And I am a snotty cryer.
I save the tissues for nose blowing and let the tears go wherever they want.

Maybe I will be able to do some artwork in the studio soon. I have cleaned it top to bottom and rearranged it a bit too. I am easing myself back into my old life, making myself ready to be artistic again.
For now, I’ll keep stitching, and trying to hold myself together as much as I can.

































