After Waverly passed away, we were left with the task of what to do with her room and all of her belongings. Each person is different in the way they cope. Some people keep the room as is for years and other dismantle everything within days. No right or wrong, just the individual way we all choose to survive loss.
Matt and I found ourselves somewhere in the middle. Her room went untouched for a few weeks. We found solace collapsing on her bed and holding her pillow tight against our chest. Eventually we were able to let go of some things. Her drawers were unpacked and we gave many of her clothes to dear friends whose kids continue to wear them and give them life. I adore seeing photos of Waverly's dresses jumping, playing and swinging. It soothes my broken heart. Her chest was moved into Oliver's room and now contains his wardrobe. Her Sleep Safe bed was given to friends for their son. Stuffed animals were passed on to friends who wanted to remember her with a tangible object.
We moved our desk into her room, along with my crafting items. Matt sometimes works from home in there and I complete paperwork at the desk. Her room will continue to evolve, but in our memories it will always remain her room.
One thing that couldn't be moved were favorite dresses; especially those which she wore again and again in her final weeks. I have always loved Hanna Andersson and their play dresses were a constant favorite. They always had corresponding leggings or bike shorts, perfect to cover a diaper. They were soft and she always looked put together which was important to me. Even though she had lovely cotton nightgowns, it was five play dresses that she wore constantly whilst on hospice. They were too precious to be donated or given away. So in her closet they hung.
I reached out to friends via Facebook to collect recommendations for a quilter. I wanted to have a blanket made of all of the special items I have saved over the years. Dresses, costumes, scarves, pajamas all saved lovingly in bins. I found someone who I think it going to create something beautiful for us. We found a design and it is time to ship off the fabrics.
Unpacking the plastic bins and placing the items into a cardboard box was painless, but those hanging dresses. I could not do it. Each time I grabbed a dress, I would weep. Remembering her frail body filling the space. Wanting to smell her on them, but finding only the scent of fabric softener. Wishing things were different. So the box sat open and waiting for more treasures.
I was finally able to delicately take them off of the hanger this morning. I carefully folded them, placing them in plastic for they are the most precious. This process wasn't without tears.
I have one more dress to include before I can seal the box and send it across the country. The dress she died in.
Vulnerable and honest.
I want to be sure this item is at the heart of the quilt.