When I finished piecing the 432 triangles into 72 hexagons and then into one flat quilt top, I spread it on the living room floor. My kids are used to this and find ways to travel across the room without stepping on the current project.
I was underwhelmed. I sat peering at it, inches away from the imperfect seams and
lumpy intersections.
"Did it work?" I asked John when he came home. "It is not as stunning as the ones in the book."
"It's great," he said to placate me. I took a photo and plunked it on Facebook.
A few minutes later when I was working on the border John pulled me into the hall.
"Now look," he said.
From a distance of fifteen feet I was unable to obsess
about the seams that did not line up, and I was pleasantly surprised to notice the overall beauty of the swirling colors.
"I guess it did work after all," I said. I remembered the song by Judy Collins called From a Distance and hummed a few lines.
The next day I sat sewing with a friend while we chatted about our marriages.
She complained about the lack of quality time while raising small
children, and the disparity between her need to talk things over and his tendency to avoid painful topics. Their communication styles just don't line up.
I mentioned that John and I rarely sit together on the couch, and while he will often ask what I want for dinner he is less inclined to ask how my day was.
"Does that make you sad?" she asked. I stepped back from twelve thousand individual evenings of pasta and dishes and
conversation.
"It used to. I remember wondering why he didn't want to know about my feelings. I sure wanted to know about his. But over time I realized that the roller coaster of my emotions is exhausting for him. As much as it calms me to dissect them, he holds my feelings like a lumpy wet St. Bernard. He can endure it if he has to, but I guess I no longer expect him to."
"But you sit together at marriage group. I've seen you. And
he listens to how you are."
"I know, and I savor that. But it is not our normal routine."
We hugged when she left, and promised to visit again soon.
I checked my Facebook wall and there were sixteen effusive comments and 40 likes about the quilt. I guess some things are simply more winsome when I learn to back off.
