I enjoy the process of hand-sewing the binding on a quilt. Usually I look for the easier, faster, better, gadgety-er way to get the job done. But binding? That’s a whole ‘nother thing.
It’s when everything comes together. It’s the last station on the long train ride. You’d think I’d want to get it done as fast as possible, but not so. I’m not fond of attaching the binding by machine to the quilt’s edges, mind you, but once that’s out of the way, it’s time to savor the experience.
Bind: to fasten or wrap by encircling.
I tend to meditate on that while I’m stitching. Last night, for instance, I began stitching down the binding on a very special quilt. It is for my daughter Kate’s first baby. The TV was on in the background, but it wasn’t long before my mind started to wander.
I remembered when Kate was born, when we brought her home. Her smile, her stubbornness, her creative talents, her gift for teaching. I see her dancing, kicking a soccer ball, graduating, walking down the isle with her dad to join her best friend and love of her life. I see things that I regret too, things that I could have done better as a parent and wish I could take back. Most of all, though, I see a woman who will be a wonderful mother.
Then my thoughts turn to the baby who will be wrapped in this quilt. Will he/she have brown eyes or blue? Will baby “O” be tall? Have brown hair or blonde? Will he/she laugh at my very bad jokes? Will he/she be artistic, creative, strong, loving, kind? I try to form a picture in my mind, but all I can conjure up is an overwhelming feeling of love.
I am binding this quilt, but I am also binding myself to this new little person, this new life and newest member of our family. My daughter’s child.
As Mrs. Goodneedle would say: Life is good!