My Little Shrine Bloomed

On the morning my Nana died, we knew it was happening. My mother texted us all to let us know she was going to go quick. I lit a candle that would burn for the next 30 days. I paced the house. I cleaned, briefly, and then I crafted. I cut and created felt wool roses, picking the brightest, most cheerful colors I could as a symbol of her bubbly, positive nature.

My little shrine B L O O M E D.

After a period of mourning, I decided to transform my flat shrine into a meaningful piece of art in my home. But it couldn’t just be any old crap I created. I reached out to Kate from Knots by Kate. I’ve wanted to toss some felt florals on her macrame for a while but have never got around to doing it. I’ve also wanted a macrame piece for a long time and this was of course the perfect marriage. After telling Kate about my very important and meaningful project, she was down to party. Suddenly, though, in swooped my million questions, ideas, mind changes, color concepts. With urgency, my grand ideas poured out of me. I got a little carried away and Im pretty sure what I was “ordering” a $300 piece with a $30 budget in mind. I finalized my vision only to start over my vision again and again and Kate took it like a champ but I know I was being super annoying. And when you’re indecisive and especially when you’re in mourning, sometimes you need to sleep on it.

When I woke up I had the clarity that I am an extremely crafty and capable person and the most meaningful symbol would most definitely something created with my own to hands.

So, with my felt wool roses looking on, I taught myself macrame. I should add I am still learning. But I got hooked. My husband knows that when I’ve grown silent (because I almost never shut up) there’s a project happening. Macrame, is easy to do once you get over the hard part of figuring it out. It’s repetitive, mesmerizing, relaxing, satisfying, and also very forgiving. If you fuck up, just unwind and begin again. Its delightful. After a few practice projects I began on a chandelier. I pictured Nana’s special flowers free flowing in the breeze on a dainty chandelier in the shade of a tree. Many weeks were spent approaching and re-approaching this project. I’ve done tons of intensive research (also called laying in bed scrolling Pinterest).

My vision formed and finalized and today, three months after she passed I got to add my very special flowers. As far as macrame goes, I’m a newbie, it’s a little sloppy, but I just knew in my heart my Nana would be proud and it would look great on insta.

And I have to say.

This is the ugliest think I have ever made.

I mean really, the word over kill comes to mind . Fuck. My meaningful, amazing project was horrid. Its laughable. So what’s a girl to do but take some scissors to it.

Sorry Nana.

Cleaned it up a little. Much better. But now I still have these flowers. My reminder of her without a place to belong (they are stores in my money jar, she would approve).

I guess that means I’m not done. Maybe she doesn’t want to be up on the wall. I think maybe she wants to play and create with me, to be a part of my projects and thoughts. Sometimes the most meaningful act of honor we can do for our loved ones who have passed is to let them live through us each day. Maybe it’s not what I do with the flowers in the end but the flowers do for me themselves, the way they inspire me. In her own way, from across the spirit realm, my Nana taught me macrame, and we made this chandelier together.

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