I wipe my eyes and find the shears
And cut a large gold star.
I find the needle, pick the thread,
A thimble from the jar.
Small Stitches in the star's five points
And stitches at the base.
A tiny stitch for each short year
That time will not erase.
I hate this job I have to do.
The Stitches should not show.
My years of quilting help me now.
Eyes fill, but fingers know.
My quilting, it relaxes me.
I share my work with pride.
This job was forced upon me when
A huge part of me died.
I shed a tear with ev'ry stitch
I wipe my eyes and hands,
Pick up my needle, start again,
Say "Bye" to all our plans
A stitch for when the boy was born.
A stitch just for his dad.
A stitch in time will not save nine
Or life he should have had.
First baby tooth, first day in school
Each mem'ry gets a stitch
The boy's first A, his first home run
From some kid's best slow pitch
First girl, first breakup, broken heart,
The bad times and the good.
A stitch for ev'ry drop of blod
When he was chopping wood.
We stitched him up and gave our thanks.
We cannot do that now.
I wipe my eyes and stitch again.
I'll sew this right somehow.