I know we are all quarantining. I know we can’t hang out with people. I know we aren’t doing all the things we love to do with each other. We are choosing where and when and with whom we spend our precious time. I have to confess that I have had the most wonderful time with my kids during this lockdown. Not that no one left the house but we kind of rationed our time. I saw my kids every morning and every night. I knew where they were. No more of the worries and sleepless nights that plague not just the new parent but the teenage parent. I’m particularly adept at hearing a newborn baby’s cry in my sleep and the closing of a car door and the slow and stealthy rise of a teenager up the creaky, creaky stairs. Having them home under our roof meant not to have to worry so much.
So when we do go out and connect it has to be for something worthwhile. Something wonderful. Something worth risking your life for! We had a beautiful trip for our anniversary but haven’t had a dinner out since. We are rationing our time with parents and friends. One, maybe two, nights a week? And after we do, then we crawl back into our respective hovels and see how long we can tolerate the darkness again. Sometimes it lasts longer than others.
So to my surprise, I found myself agreeing to meet a complete stranger online. She had a quilt she was willing to part with and I thought it was just beautiful! So we agreed to meet. When I arrived she asked if I had trouble finding her house. No, I said, my aunt used to live around that neighborhood. And then she handed me the love-worn quilt and it felt warm and heavy in my hands. It was a double wedding ring pattern, which I have always loved, with a seafoam green trim. She told me how to wash it and that it had come from the Cold Spring Antique Fair in Cape May over 20 years ago. I told her how much I appreciated it and thanked her again and got back in my car where Annie was waiting for me. I showed her the quilt and we talked about how nice it really was, not knowing what to expect. We headed home but drove around the corner first. And there to my surprise was my aunt's old house! Literally backing up to the quilt lady's house! I couldn't believe it - the house had changed considerably, including the front door being relocated from the center to the side, but the address was the same. I felt I could hear my Aunt Doris laughing right out loud and she had the best laugh, the best smile, the twinkliest eyes, right up until she passed. Tears filled my eyes. It was a gift from heaven. The funny thing too was I remember as a child going to their house with my parents who were helping to paint the living room with new green trim - seafoam green! But Aunt Doris thought it looked like pea soup and so there was some debate about whether to keep it or not. I can't remember if it lasted.
It was serendipity. Fate laughing at us through the past, through the grave, through the social media that we all depend on and bash at the same time. Because even though we can't be together, we are still together. We are still our aunt's nieces, no matter what. We are still our childhood selves who learned to love from loving families. We are still little girls learning from and looking up to our aunts who did things differently than our mothers. We are still young and old, searching for connection. We are still our neighbors' neighbors. Serendipit-Us! We are still a gift to each other each and every day in ways we don't even realize. And so Aunt Doris came to me through a stranger, a very generous one. No matter how we find each other, through text, or phone, or a screen, or an app, with a mask on or a distant hug, we need each other to share a story or a smile or a very old, very treasured, very special quilt. I will forever refer to it as Aunt Doris's Quilt.
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