I just finished this one yesterday. The tittle of this quilt is The 100 (II).
The 100 (I) I got it done after my mother passes away, around 2012-13.
That was the quilt shown below. I copied two sentences of her poem onto the quilt.
The poem expressed her feelings of happiness and proud living inside her new/first and only house. We did not know she created poem until she passed away. This poem sticks with me.
She was raised Communist and never owned anything except her genuine feelings and her beautiful soul. When she managed to build the house and lived in, her emotions and feelings were overwhelmed with joy ( finally I own something), sadness (because her daughter was away, could not live with her) and proud (I did it with my own hands, sweat and toil day in and day out).
My mother passed away 2011, like I said, I could not go home for the funeral because I did not have money to buy the airplane ticket.. I carried that guilt until today. I still have to process the heavy feeling while writing it now. For how long? I do not know. I mourned her passing everyday, quilting and crying. I did two quilts to grief her. The one below , The 100 (I) was one.
The 100 quilting to count time for grieving and self- healing.
7 days/ 49 days and 100 days after your loved one passed is a important day in Vietnamese culture. We would do the offerings for the deceased either at home nor in the Temple. I went home to do the offerings with my siblings and relatives and my mother's friends for the 49 days.
This quit is my offerings for my mother's 100 day.
I had a sketch at the actual 100 days of my mother's passing.
Go back to the quilt done yesterday. The 100 (II) done as my offerings for my Father's 100 day passing. I did not do it when he passed away in 1994. Some what 30 years ago, I publicly mourned him but never grieving him like I am doing now.
Last year I went back home, I brought back to the US a piece of my father's army green blanket. My mother kept it for years.
The blanket has been used by my mother inside her studio. It got smaller and smaller as she cut into pieces over the time. She sew the border around the small pieces into little towels. I was lucky. There was two towels left at home.
I used the green fabric to sew onto one of my son's discard clothes. I started to grief my father with an act of sewing. Counting time to grief my father like I did for my mother.
Guilt is first emotion I had with both my mother and then my father when grieving.
Hopefully, after this series of quilting and writing, my guilt will less troublesome and less heavy inside my heart so I can allow myself grief both of my parents with love eventually.
