Seeing the Edge with NW Marketing Guy - Rod Brooks

The Power of Love

For some, it takes every day that we have together to create that special indefinable bond. Some unfortunately live a lifetime without making the connection that creates it. Songs, poems, stories, and plays have been written about it. Artists have tried to paint it and photographers have tried to capture it in images. The power of love has been at the core of our healing and sense of peace for centuries. A search for the phrase on the Internet returned more than 3.5 million responses. Clearly, it’s something that matters to many of us.

On July 31st, just two short months ago, Cindy went into the hospital to have her body prepared to receive the cycles of chemotherapy that would be dripped into her system. She was being prepared to do battle once again with the cancer that had been found. And on that day in July our good friend, quilter, and owner of Okan Arts, Patricia, asked me to call her about a “healing quilt” that she would like to make for Cindy. One that I would commission and Patricia would design and construct.

The decision to make the quilt was quick and easy but our conversation about what the quilt would ultimately become was one that evolved. Patricia was the first to call it a healing quilt – one that she would create as quickly as possible in order for Cindy to have it during the journey she would soon begin. In order to expedite the process I would entrust responsibility for the selection of fabrics and colors to Patricia. My only request was that the quilt includes, in some appropriate and meaningful way, fabric taken from clothing that had been worn by three of the people who love her most – her mother, her father, and me.

To tell you how it came to pass and how our subsequent conversations helped Patricia define the elements of the quilt will be left for another time. I’ll just say that I knew we were doing the right thing when the call ended and I reentered the hospital corridor outside Cindy’s recovery room. I’d been standing in a quiet garden but hadn’t noticed the sign above the door. It was called “The Healing Garden,” and I knew that our conversation and decisions about Cindy’s quilt had happened in the right place.