There is a slab of fabric I allowed myself to splurge on. Seven panels of cardinals fluttering though a snowy forest lay on the table, waiting until the hubbub of a busy month afforded time to use it. 

 

Then suddenly everything tumbled off the calendar. Social distancing abruptly shoved church, teaching, lunch dates, and marriage group into the black hole that has arrived on this planet. I wandered into the sewing room and began to cut. 

 

Things went well, better than I deserved considering my lethargy. In little more than two days five hundred triangles converged into one quilt top. The bright red wings comforted me, in their freedom. No one told them not to fly with friends. 

 

There was another fabric on the shelf with birch trees. It would be a fitting border. I measured how many lengths it would take to travel all four sides, and began to slice. But instead of cutting lengthwise I cut cross wise. A small mistake and yet it resulted in a shortfall. 

 

I laid the quilt on the floor to assess the dilemma. 

 

John got busy with a pencil and paper and came up with several possible solutions, which involved slicing off two inches from each strip, and using them to finish the last sides, or sewing paper pieced cornerstones, or getting creative with the cornerstones such that they rounded the bend. Interesting. 

 

As I mulled it over my screensaver swiveled its wide selection of memories. Pictures flickered by of the twins at dance recitals, eighth grade graduation, birthdays, musicals, and ordinary joys. Sadness seeped in over the very real possibility that many anticipated events this spring will evaporate. I started to cry. 

 

I thought about how full our hearts had been, as we celebrated each performance or holiday. Then I remembered the fabric. Would it be possible somehow to slice off gladness from those past events, by reminiscing over the photographs, and stitch them together?  Each one of them spilled over with happiness, and could surely spare a sliver. 

 

Heading back into the sewing room I noticed the extra triangles of snow. They obliged me by becoming a ribbon of hexagons. I incorporated them into the border. They were pleased to have been needed.