Hope, Bravery, Endurance and Courage

No, not a new necklace sentiment but a real life message that is going on at our house. My dear Dad is battling his lymphoma again. He kept it to himself and just a week or so ago told us he had been to the doctor and that he needed to start treatment. So as all families try to do, we gathered our information and went forward. Yesterday was the first of 16 treatments. A tough day. Mostly because of fear and anger. But as the day progressed, and as he made it through his treatment and a night has passed the path seems better. What I want to share today is the beauty of the Enloe Cancer Center and the wonderful quilts that line it's hallways. You see, it used to be filled to over following from the ceilings with paper folded origami cranes.


Thousands of them. Well, the fire marshal didn't like that much and so they had to be removed...to other locations in lesser amounts and that left the hallways blank again. I recognized names of wonderful people as I looked on the tags for the wall quilts. People I never knew had had cancer that I know. Small world.

Let me share what Judith K. Johnson of Chico, California (Judy--wonderful quilter, traveler, mother, grandmother, friend) wrote beneath her quilts:

"Ribbons of Courage" "I have survived Cancer two times, 1997 and 2004. I have walked down the main hall to have chemotherapy many times, and enjoyed the Healing Arts exhibits, and the cranes. I know everyone that comes here likes seeing the art, and the paper cranes were so special to all of us, our family and friends. When the cranes were taken down, we had a new idea of making banners that could be hung in the main hallway. I was ready to be part of it. Everyone tht comes here will see these quilts and know that all of the artists that made them were giving special quilts to the Cancer Center to replace the cranes. My two banners celebrate the cranes, and four words of cancer patients, Hope, Bravery, Endurance and Courage."

There are more quilts and I'll take more photos as the weeks progress. It never fails that when I need to feel uplifted, somehow a quilt gets involved. Whether it's just the process or the giving or the friendships, or the viewing of special work. Amazing. And thank you to all of those quilters that make those hallways a lot less frightening. Dad's prognosis is very good. We are grateful and humbled by the nurses and doctors who so patiently take care of him.