Sewing a Life of Memories

It is so necessary when a loved one dies, for us as humans to keep something tangible of theirs to remember them by. Recently, our youngest daughter lost her great, great Grandmother very rapidly to cancer. It was quick. By the time Grandma R. Found out, the cancer was well advanced and throughout her body. She chose not to fight.mshe was exhausted from many years of just living life. And so after a short battle, she succumbed to life after death with our Lord Jesus Christ. It was sad. It was hard. A family so closely knit, losing there matriarch. Their most beloved hostess.
When the family came to me and asked me to take some of Grandma R's clothes and make thirty or so memory pillows, I readily agreed. As I opened the box of beautiful shirts and ran my fingers ove the different fabrics, it occurred to me that these items represented much more than fabrics to be used for the family's heirlooms. These shirts represented Grandma R's life, her loves, her style. In essence, just by looking at her clothes, I could readily tell what kind of woman she was.
The shirts were very simple. Yet each one was cut with an open neck, a sure sign that she was not closed off. There was a femininity to them, some small,flair of intricate beauty, leading me to know that she was particular about what she did and paid attention to detail. And finally, the fabric was soft and pastel in color, which I assume was why she too could say what she meant with a flair for the quiet wisdom that come when a woman has lived a long life.
As I began to cut the fabric and make the shirts into pillows, I wondered, "What kind of memorabilia would I leave my children. Would they too be able to take my precious items or clothing and have great keepsakes? Would they know and remember who I truly am by the things I have left behind as Grandma R. had? Would they look at my sewing machine and remember the hours I sewed to buy their school sports shirts, their shoes, sewed their prom dresses, tuxedos, and articles to sell? Would they look at the jewelry, and see the simple, cheap dollar store finds that they bought me as small children and know that I wore them proudly because my children had bought them? Would they open my treasure box and finger each item I saved as a memento of their love, and know I cherished these objects of glue and macaroni above all else. And finally, would they open my Bible, picture me in the Word, and know I spent many days on my knees praying for their wars and welfare?
I hope so. I pray that at the end of this life my children see a woman, imperfect as she was, who loved her Lord and her family more than life itself. I pray they see a woman who was content with second beat so that they could have firsts. I hope that my memories leave them feeling safe, souns, and loved. But, Imdo not know for sure. I have not been perfect. And so, I will spend more time allowing God to perfect me. I will sew a little longer. Read a little more. And pray a little harder. I will continue to live my life with a legacy in mind for them that will last a lifetime when I go to meet my Maker.
So, my question is, what kind of a memory pillow will be made for your family? What treasure box of memories will you leave behind? Will the good, outweigh the bad? Will they remember your love and commitment both to you and God? Will your perfection overcome the imperfections? I know, deep huh? But in the end when we leave this earth, all we really have is a lot of stuff  with attached memories. And I pray, in the end, my children will finger my objects, look into their hearts, and have beautiful memories in their souls ...until we meet again...

Grandma R. with her namesake Ella