Life is Beautiful

This summer I decided I wanted to learn how to quilt. It turns out quilting lessons are not in bounty, but my Mom suggested I call up a family friend, a woman in her sixties, because she knows how to quilt. I did call her up, and she's been teaching me to quilt for a couple of months now.

This lady and her husband have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. She used to teach with my Mom when I was a toddler and they've been friends ever since. Now, she's still a good friend of both my Mom and my Mom's ex-husband, my Dad. So she is intimately acquainted with many of my family's tumultuous issues that have occurred over the last twenty years.

We've had some amazing discussions while stitching together. We've talked about my family, ministry, faith, the evolving church, our passions... Its been a beautiful time we've shared.

She's a wonderful lady but last week, she received the results of some medical tests, and found out she has skin cancer. She told my Mom.

My Mom told me that evening, a few days before my next lesson. I wasn't sure what to do or say when we met again. I decided to not say anything about it at all, since she's not in the habit of disclosing her troubles to me.

For this particular lesson, she took me to her friend Rita's house. Rita happened to be about to set up a quilt she's making for one of her grandchildren and agreed to wait until I could make it before she commenced.

Rita is amazing. She's about 80, 85, and her husband died five years ago. She lives on a granny flat on the side of her family's farmhouse and she still home school's two of her grandchildren. Her house is immaculate and lovely, with well-nurtured plants and quilts hanging up everywhere. She served us lunch and while it was simple: quiche, salad, garlic bread and tea, it was a beautiful meal, You could tell she was very intentional about incorporating beauty into every aspect of her life.

Rita captivated me. She was so with it mentally, and though she was hunched over and clearly quite arthritic, she pressed on, making beauty a priority in her life. I want to be just like her.

Rita and my quilting teacher broached the subject of my teacher's cancer briefly, talking of cat scans and MRIs. When they did, my teacher looked me right in the eye. I gave her a sympathetic half-smile, because I didn't know what else to do. I wasn't a part of that conversation anyway.

On the way back home from Rita's house, my teacher and I talked about Rita, and the wonder that she is. We talked of the importance as Christians of incorporating beauty in life and never letting that go if possible.

This story doesn't really have a conclusion. It is simply what happened that day, and I've been thinking about it a lot.

Since then, my Mom has told me more about my teacher's situation, and its a bleak one. My heart goes out to her but I'm not sure what I should do. I'm trying to figure out if it was helpful for me to avoid bringing up the topic that day or not, whether it was helpful to discuss beauty instead of cancer.

I don't know. I've never dealt with terminal illnesses before. Basically, the situation really sucks and I don't know how to love her through this.