08/18/2026
This is the only quilt I have ever made, and it wasn’t because I wanted to.
As Ruthie slowly declined, she would suddenly forget how to do things. She was going to make this quilt for a customer and had already made all of the blocks. She took the weekend off and started putting the rows together. Monday morning she was ready to sew, but she couldn’t remember how. I spent hours trying to help her remember, but it was no use. Ruthie cried for hours.
I asked her mom and aunt to finish it, but they didn’t have time. So the next morning I set up my sewing machine and went to work. By the end of the day I had the quilt top finished—it was a California King. The next morning I put it into the quilter, hoping Ruthie would be able to quilt it. She had no trouble and finished it in a few hours. Her aunt did the binding.
Ruthie was still able to quilt for a few more months. Sadly, like everything else she forgot how to do, that ability was simply gone.
Ruthie was the most optimistic person I’ve ever known. Right up until her last few months she was positive she was going to beat whatever was happening to her and relearn everything. The very last thing she really loved to do that she lost was reading. One night I noticed she was turning the same page back and forth in a book. I asked her what was wrong, and she looked up at me with tears streaming down her face and said, “I can’t read anymore.” I sat with her for hours, trying to make her feel better.
