I am mending a quilt I made in 1987.
I saw a picture of an antique quilt in a magazine, and was inspired to try a sunshine and shadow quilt like it. It required careful use of cotton prints.
When my father moved to a new city, I gave the quilt to him. They moved because my mother had been diagnosed with rhumatoid arthritus and they thought that the doctors would be better in a university town.
Dad 'went horizontal' on his bed in the afternoons.
Eventually, the top of the quilt wore out, some of the fabrics disintegrated.
I started to mend it when he moved into long term care. Since 2013, off and on, during my visits with him, I take the needle and scissors and scraps from a ziplock I keep in his cupboard and mend,
Sometimes I work on other sewing project or I go through photos with him, or I read to him.
He likes Ogden Nash.
He likes Emily Dickinson.
The mending seems to be a slow process.
I brought the quilt home a couple of weeks ago and told myself "just go for it"!
The man is 93 years old.