by Susan Gourley
Fort Wayne, IN

There is deep sadness and loss held in the heart of those of us who have a loved one with this disease. In my case, it is my mother and two aunts. I express this loss with words and images, past and present. Some are on the surface; others are on the pressed cotton pieces that look like they float on the surface and, like memories, can fall away at any time and disappear. The sunset fills the background as the day ends like the recollections of the day and the past.

Around the outside of the quilt I have written questions any mother would ask if faced with the loss of the most precious memories of motherhood:

To my dear child,

What if I can not remember the soft touch of your hand?
What happens when I do not know your smile?
What if I do not know my face as I see it in the mirror?
What about when there are no memories for the day as the sun says its final goodbye?
What if I can not remember that I loved the warm smell of the top of your head?
What if I will never remember I held you in my arms as you slept?
What if I never again have the chance to remember who I was and who you were to me?
What if I can not remember that I loved you?