Friday, February 22, 2013

binding time and place in experience

I will always connect the upper half of this white circle with the winter I'm spending with my father.
  January in the apartment.  February in the hospital.
My hands make small gestures and pull the threads tight around the many holes.
This eyelet semi circle is the last large part of the final panel of the four meditation panels I am making with my home community.  I am so glad to have had this work to do.
And walking.
I am so glad to be able to walk
Walking every day.  Walking there in the morning and then back to his home again early evening.
Step by step by step. Stitching the place and the weather to myself.
I recall walking in this town six years ago.
In fact it's the walking I remember when I think of that time when she was ill and dying.
I stitched beside her too.
"Where's your stitching?" she would ask me, until I brought it out
and my moving hands soothed both of us.

21 comments:

Ms. said...

Memorable memories...stitch by stitch and step by step...moving with the panorama of your generation in step with theirs. It's a very moving post dear Judy.

roz said...

my father's passing too is recorded in stitch. a tangible reminder of time spent together when he was in hospital at the end.
i am very very grateful to have that cloth and those stitches. the closest i can be with him now is with that cloth, our last time together.

Marti said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Judy Martin said...

While my own memories of my mother's passing are in this post and they are real, and they have been triggered by my visit here, I want to assure you all that my father is not dying.

He has lost some of his strength and mobility, and is in hospital to try to build it up again. Although he turns 90 in May, I expect him to be around for a few more years after that.

What started as a post about the completion of the eyelet embroidery (6 months of my own and other hands stitching on it) has transformed into a post about memory and time and phenomenology. I let it do that, partly because it was the middle of the night when I wrote it, but mostly because of the real truth of cloth.

Grampa is OK, kids. Thank you for your support and love.

Roberta said...

What a lovely post and the comments are as well.

lacelady said...

Thank you!

mansuetude said...

A post filled with Love

It is All one circle. Thank you so much.

Connie Rose said...

This piece is breathtaking, Judy.

Margaret said...

What a blessing that you have this time with your father, and such a loving relationship. Hugs!

Caterina Giglio said...

brings tears to my eyes... so touching

wholly jeanne said...

memory and time and phenomenology = the real truth of cloth. yes. the real truth of love, too. gentle hugs from me to you. hospital sitting is exhausting.

Margaret Cooter said...

Whiteness, the no-colour that holds all colours ... and the stitching that holds time and binds memory ... a lifelong project.
Sunshine on the snow, so good to see that; it reminds me of the marvellous days of my own Canadian winters.

Lesley Turner said...

Judy, the 4th panel is magnificent. How comforting to have it to work on while you sit with your father.

Valerianna said...

So much beauty and winter in that stitching...

susan christensen said...

dear judy, your thoughts touch me to my core, remembering the walk i made to my father's hospital bedside from the bus that had brought me into the city from the airport. He is home again now, but i long to be near by, near enough to walk to see him and my mother. thank you for your honesty, i love your writing, and the thought which is so true that stitching makes bearable the most unbearable times. (your photos are icing)! -sus

Jeannie said...

A gorgeous memory and a gorgeous piece of cloth. I have the stitching I did as I cared for my Gram. She wanted to see the progress. It was fitting since she is the one who taught me. Now on trips to tend to the elders, new stitching goes. Meditational stitching, walking meditation, and calm mind. :)

Velma Bolyard said...

try again: i see that your kids needed reassurance. and what better way that to look at this most amazing cloth. oh, beautiful.

Minka said...

Cloth and memory. Love it.
Eyelet. Love it.
Watching the cloth evolve. Love it.

montse llamas-artsandcats said...

I want to try these eyelets myself. I need some circle movement...

Grace Martin said...

Thanks for this, Mom. Very touching and such a beautiful piece.

Threadpainter said...

I think this is the lovliest piece of work with the lovliest story ... such a memorable piece to treasure ... thanks for sharing with us.