“The Parcel” by Rebecca Wolfe

The quilts arrived today in the post

Unwrapping, unfolding

I gaze tenderly upon mother’s creations

I press my eager nose to cloth and inhale deeply

The scent of her damp Vancouver Island home

The scent of dried lavender from her garden, bundled into sachets


The stitches even and sure

Hundreds of

Pale sea green patterned squares of cloth

Remnants from dresses she had sewn

For herself, I see her in them

Each fabric scrap squared and stitched together with perfection


Living memories flit past my eyelids

As my hand gently smooths over rows and rows

Of careful stitches

Each stitch a moment suspended in time


I press my nose into the bundled fabric again

My face buries in its soothing folds

I inhale again the scent of my mother’s life

Sighing deeply,

Blinking back tears, my heart weeps yet again

I miss her

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