Thimble

Covers the finger, not the heart, but the idea remains the same.

Even if you don’t stitch, sew or hem, a thimble cover your digit so you can push through thick fabric with a needle and thread. Avoiding the callus of thick skin is a great metaphor for how to begin.

Currently, I am cutting for a memory quilt, it is out of t-shirts that were selected and will never be worn again. This jersey quilt has square that must be sewn together in blocks, one piece at a time. Borders and binding must be used to complete this quilt and it will take time. One year ago today, I was at the post office forwarding the mail for my late Daddio’s post office box to mine. Little did I know, how disturbing it would be to get the correspondence of condolences, and unravel, untangle and sort through what was his. A year ago, I certainly wasn’t thinking about a thimble to protect my fingers or my heart. I was just doing, not feeling anything. My momma taught me to sew together pieces of fabric, so the thimble is more then an analogy for me. The thimble protects me from what is thick, heavy and often a burden to move through. I hope that you can see that path too.

I hired help, I had volunteers, neighbors who wanted trinkets and memory items to keep for themselves. I remember in particular a blue ceramic egg that everyone seemed to want, it was just and heavy object to me. There was a woman who was loading it into her car without asking, I don’t remember her name and I explained that it was promised to someone else and with a huff she said my Daddio’s name and made her claim. Take it, it’s yours but do me this favor, give me a memory of yours, then fill out an address card. So, I use my thimble to push the needle through the heavy and heal hearts.