I may have mentioned once or twice that I’m a “trial and error” kind of girl. Sometimes I just don’t get it right the first time and then it’s try, try again. In the case of marriage, I only needed a second try. The first one was, well, not quite a disaster as I got my beautiful older daughter out of the deal which made it worthwhile. The overall experience was, however, less than desirable.
In the course of the back and forth that occurred in the whole unpleasant and convoluted divorce proceedings, he-who-must-not-be-named came over to our house and took a few things. Most of them made sense like his mother’s diamond earrings. Some were confusing like ½ of our silverware. The one that made the least sense to me, though, was a quilt I had made to celebrate our dog, Naughty. Now, I never protested him taking the quilt because I had, in fact, made it and wrapped it as a Christmas gift for him one year so I didn’t feel that I could question his right to it. (If it happened again today, I’d question it but hindsight is 20/20.) I did wonder though, what kind of man sleeps under a quilt made for him by the woman he professed to think was so terrible? Over time, it was just one of many things he did that left me shaking my head in disbelief.
For my older daughter, though, the quilt was a sore spot. She wanted it. After all, it was about her dog. Naughty was a rescue Lab we got when she and my oldest were about 18 months old. To say that Naughty was her best friend was an understatement. Years went by and Naughty crossed the rainbow bridge and my daughter asked her father to give her the quilt. He refused. He divorced again and remarried again and still refused to give her the quilt. (I couldn’t help but wonder if either subsequent wife would have even wanted to sleep under a quilt made by wife #1.) According to my daughter, her request for the quilt was met with, “You can have it when I’m dead.”
Well, #3 and he-who-must-not-be-named are building a new house and #3 doesn’t want any memories other than their own to sully the new house. So, my daughter got the long-awaited message on Facebook. Do you want this or should I send it to the Goodwill? Like a shot, my daughter arranged to retrieve the quilt. And so, seventeen years later, the Naughty Dog Quilt is back where my daughter believes it should be…with Naughty’s girl. As for me, well, I have mixed feelings. Now that I look at the quilt again, I realize that I would have quilted it much tighter now than I did then. Maybe it’s not just home, maybe it’s home and ready for a bit of a facelift….like I need another UFO!