When
doctors first diagnosed my mother and told her she probably had little more than a couple of months, she did something completely
wacky...
Brilliant, really...
She ran for public office.
The people of her small Kentucky town elected her by an overwhelming margin.
My mother inspires so many people with her faith and resiliency...and no one admires her more than I. She is, simply, the strongest person I know. For more than two years, she has waged war in the most graceful way against a formidable adversary: Stage IV Melanoma with multiple brain tumors.
Though she struggles daily with complications from a disease that was supposed to kill her long ago, she keeps fighting, her head up and a smile on her face.
I've been painfully slow in completing her quilt, working on it since January 2011. Like its new owner, it's been plagued by setbacks: We've moved twice, endured deployments and TDYs, and dedicated several months to caring for her and Daddy. Finally, though, I put the last stitch in it late last night. All that remains is a label. I have an idea of what I want it to say, but I'm taking my time to get it right.
I'm so proud of her for getting back on her feet. Even weighed against the standard of the last two years, she's having a tough week.
Though she's not here with me right now, I hope this makes her smile. I can't wait for her to see it in person. Can't wait to get her back down here to lay under it and watch the pelicans. She's crazy about the pelicans.
The long-arm quilting is easily the most elaborate I've ever done, but I wanted to do something very special for this amazing woman who has built an incredible legacy of love, service, faith and family.
My heart sings with joy to have Momma's quilt finished.
