Enfolded

After our Dad died last spring my sister K combined two of his old cotton gardening shirts with new fabric to make this throw sized quilt. I'm enchanted by it. I've been the first of us, in rotation, to treasure it and snuggle under it and the memories it holds while I read or doze.
-The music notes because he played piano by ear. You knew all was well in Dad's world when he sat down to play the piano.
-The sparkles and feathers for snowy owls and home made snow planes*
-The red accents because it is a delight and an honour to say that I'm his daughter and because, as K, who loves red, says, the quilt looked shroud like until she noticed the red label inside a shirt and decided that red belonged here too.

*The snow plane, Dad's Saskatchewan version of an air boat. It consisted of a torpedo-shaped flat wooden platform on skis, an engine and an exposed airplane propeller on the back, and a canvas cab for protection (though protection from what, we're not sure). It skipped and surfed across the snowy fields. Not dangerous at all!

from Beannacht
("Blessing")

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.


~ John O'Donohue ~