I was seventeen years old when I met Sarah, a petite, spunky girl with a big smile and hair cut in a Chelsea, dancing at a punk show. We became instant friends, not typical for me, an introvert with loner tendencies, but a testament to the force that was Sarah. We quickly became talk on the phone three times a day friends, discussing boys, clothes, and her Crohn’s disease. Sarah was sick, she was actually very sick. Though at seventeen I didn’t really understand that. And I think that was a good thing for both of us. So while there were punk shows, and house parties, much of our time together was spent at the Egleston Children’s hospital in Atlanta. I’d squeeze into the hospital bed next to her and we’d watch t.v. and talk and laugh. “Scratch my legs,” she’d request, and I’d comply. We were best friends.
I would drive to the hospital every day when I could. It was actually easier to see her there because it was halfway between her house and mine, and we lived over an hour apart. Eventually I moved even farther away to go to college in Athens, but I still made those trips to the hospital in Atlanta. I would do my best to encourage her when she was feeling horrible, and we made big plans for the future. We dreamed about being roommates once she was well enough, taking classes together at college. We were full of hope.
While Sarah battled her illness, I battled my own demons. Drugs, alcohol, and a general failure to love myself. But Sarah loved me and she wasn’t afraid to use “tough love.” I remember the night at a party when she told me point blank, if you don’t stop this, I don’t know that I can bear to continue to see you. I was less than a hundred pounds at the time, a skeletal 5′ 6″. I pulled my act together to some extent, and Sarah never followed through with her threat.
One day I got the idea that I should crochet Sarah a blanket. Something she could carry with her to and from the hospital, something to always remind her that she was loved. I’ve always slept hugging a blanket (and still do, much to the amusement of my husband). A security blanket, a “blankie.” My first was a blanket crocheted by my mom’s best friend Caroline, in yellow, green, and white. It lasted through my sixth year or so before it either disintegrated or was snuck away in the night by my parents. I have mixed memories of its actual demise, fact mingling with I’m sure some fiction.
Sarah’s blanket was created from a bin of acrylic scraps that my stepmom, an avid crocheter, had given me. I declared it her blanket of many colors, and worked row after row of what I think were double crochets. Nothing fancy. That blanket simultaneously became both my masterpiece, and possibly the most unattractive object I have ever made. No one ever told me that it was ugly, Sarah certainly didn’t. I’m not sure that I even realized it at the time. It was my labor of love.
The weekend of Sarah’s funeral I slept on the floor of her bedroom surrounded by her out of town relatives. I hugged her blanket and sobbed. That was over eighteen years ago, and to write this, to remember her and what it felt like to lose her, the tears still come quickly. I felt lost without my friend.
In the weeks after Sarah died I changed my life dramatically, making a near 180. There was no returning to the life I lived before. It helped that I met Jonny during that time, and we were married about six months later. Of course that’s another story, one that is still playing out today.
My understanding of friendship, death, and love has changed and deepened over the years. I’ve experienced a good amount of all. And while her death left me feeling terribly alone all those years ago, I am fully confident that Sarah has been with me all along. I know that she is smiling through the veil at her little namesake, along with all the other dear ones whose names our Mae shares.
(Sarah and me in 1997)
Not an ugly creation at all, because it was made with love for a dear friend. My niece has Crohn’s as well, and it is such a brutal, unpredictable disease. Thanks, as always, for a lovely, graceful post!
Grazie per aver condiviso con noi questa tua esperienza meravigliosa!
Sono certa che lei sia stata per te un Angelo mandato sulla terra per aiutarti a superare i tuoi momenti oscuri.
ammiro te e la tua splendida famiglia, alla quale si è aggiunta questa meravigliosa bimba di nome Sarah, in ricordo di una grande amicizia.
Sono certa che così intendi dirle grazie per tutto ciò che lei ha fatto inconsciamente per te.
Your photos are stunning as usual. Congratulations on a safe delivery. So sorry for the loss of such a close friend. The Lord works in strange ways. You both left indelible marks on each other. Your blanket was definitely a work of love and love is never ugly! Hard to imagine you in the past life you describe; you present yourself to us now as a wonderful woman, wife and mother. I am constantly amazed at the things you accomplish on a daily basis with the size of your family and all it’s responsibilities. Jonny is truly one lucky man to have you in his life. Blessings to you all.
Oh my that is such a precious story. How lucky you were to have such a wonderful friend. I am so sorry that you had to lose her. Now I am in tears.
The blanket is beautiful, as is your story and your love for your friend. It’s amazing that you are able to get so much done already in terms of posting here, so soon after Mae’s birth!
What a stunning post – both in prose and photography! Most importantly a beautiful love letter to Sarah and your friendship. The blanket you made is gorgeous, filled with lively colors and made with love. It is not ugly, not at all.
I feel that Sarah is your guardian angel, after all, she sent you Jonny.
The picture of your daughter holding Mae is truly extraordinary.
Marilyn (in Dallas)
thank you for sharing your story and my you and she were lucky to have found each other. You gave her so much that she treasured and she gave you the same amount.
Thank You for sharing this beautiful story of a true friendship. My twin sister and I know what it is to lose a close friend. We knew Marie since 7th grade and stayed in touch through her marriage and the birth of her children and first grandchild. Today we are in constant touch with her daughter and her grandchildren. These friends will always remain in our hearts and thoughts.
God Bless you and your family
Marion and family
Beautiful story. Beautiful photographs. Beautiful (yes, really) afghan. Thank you for sharing them all.
Wow, what a tearful, moving story.Thanks for sharing and being honest. I am so glad that you and Sarah found each other.
I love your blog, you are such a beam of sunshine!!! I am so happy things turned around for you.
The pictures are just precious!!
I Am a Hospice Volunteer and your story was so totally moving for me. People ask me all the time how I can do Hospice work. I always answer that death is like a pebble thrown into a brook. We see the pebble enter the water but then we witness the many ripples that go on and on. That’s what you’ve described here. Sarah tried to make a mark on your life while she lived and she most certainly did. But look at the bigger mark she made in her death. You completely changed your life around and now her spirit lives through you and your children. This is such a beautiful, touching expression of things that happen far beyond whatever we can see. I’m touched and inspired – thank you Sarah for all you’ve done. Blessings….
Your story of Sarah brought tears to my eyes. Such a dear, tender friendship and history you two share. One day you will tell this story to Mae and she will feel so special and loved so much to have been named after her.?
Larkspur has such beautiful eyes! You have wonderful children, Ginny. And a wonderful friendship ….. You were Sarah’s blessing. And she was your happiness …. it is a so sad and yet beautiful story. Even it made me cry …. And now you have a Baby-Sarah. Her name is sooooo special. A gift after so many years. Ravishing!
Labors of love are always the most beautiful creations.
This is so beautiful and brought tears to my eyes. What a beautiful namesake for your daughter.
Ginny — I knew I liked you so much and enjoy your blog, pictures, and yarn. After reading this heart-warming, heart-wrenching story of your friendship and loss, and embracing your honesty about your demons of old, I understand why. Although our lives are very different, we are so similar. I feel like you are a kibdred soul. This story validated me in precious and surprising ways. Thank you. I am crying for your loss and at the same time I am crying for your redemption and beauty
Thank you for sharing these wonderful photos and this most poignant story. I would imagine that although many years have passed, this chapter is a difficult one to share without shedding a tear or two. Much love to you and your family.
What a beautiful tribute to your friend, Ginny. My brother has Crohn’s and Beschet’s so this tugged my heartstrings pretty hard. A blanket is a perfect gift for someone with a chronic disease that often leaves them debilitated in bed. I’d never thought of that. I may just have to do something similar for my brother.
This is so touching Ginny. What a blessing that Sarah had you by her side when she needed someone most, and that you had her when you did too. I went through a similar phase of self destructive behavior and not loving myself and am grateful that I left that all behind. I haven’t experienced the same level of loss that you have and can’t imagine how hard it would be to lose someone you’re that close to. I can see how it deepens your appreciation of spending time with those you love and savoring that time together. Thank you for sharing this story with us and I’m glad you still have that special blanket.
Your pictures are always beautiful, but the one of Larkspur holding Mae is stunning! The most beautiful of all.
Thank you for sharing your story of love of a friend, your recovery, and namesake of your baby girl. We all need “best friends” in our lives – they can make the difference in how we live our life – as it did with yours – and the blanket is only made more beautiful by its “story”. You new baby photos just bring smiles and warmth to the hearts of all of us – those ahhhhh moments we need daily. Thank you.
I like the blanket and love your post!
So lovely, Ginny x
So sweet. Lovely story. Lovely tribute. Lovely friends
You have been blessed with so many good friends. We should all be so lucky to have friends so dear to us.
Peace.
Ginny, thank you so much for sharing your memories. Sarah sounds like an absolutely amazing friend! (and I actually don’t think the blanket is ugly at all!)
On a different note: I always love your photos, but these are among the loveliest I’ve seen on your blog. That one of Larkspur looking into the camera while holding Mae just about stopped me in my tracks. Beautiful.
I ditto everything Bee just said.
So do I!
Such a beautiful post, Ginny.
Absolutely beautiful photos. Such beautiful children and a sad, but beautiful story of friendship, to go with them.
Enjoy those children.
Ginny, it really is an honour to hear you speak of your journey in such a heartfelt way. I’m sure many of us share elements that have touched you in your life. It’s so important to talk about these life events. Thank you and God bless you and your precious babe xxx
Such a story of love – I’m sure little Mae will love hearing about it. Oh Ginny, it is truly inspiring what a beautiful life you have built.
What a beautiful story Ginny. My wonderful SIL passed away from chron’s disease about 7 years ago now and I still miss her everyday. I think the people who suffer with it go through extreme pain and are very strong. What a gorgeous photo of you both, and I am sure she is your guardian angel.
It’s a beautiful blanket with a beautiful story. You story made me cry too, but there has been some hope and love from loss. Crohn’s disease is a hidden and little talked about condition. I was diagnosed with it in 1996, twenty years on I am completely in remission and have been for eleven years, what amazes me though is that my consultant has never once in all that time asked me why I might in remission when few, if any, of his other patients are or have been for so long.
How wonderful that your little one is keeping Sarah’s memories alive into the future.
Thank you for sharing your story. It sounds like you had a beautiful friendship. No matter what you think of your blanket’s appearance, it’s full of love and I’m sure Sarah knew that. I have a very simple afghan my Amma crocheted for me in very 1980s pink and purple acrylic yarn. It doesn’t match a thing in my house and I moved on from my pink and purple phase around age 8, but I treasure it because I feel like she’s hugging me every time I snuggle up with it. Handmade treasures don’t have to be perfect to convey the maker’s love and care.
I wish I had words to say how I’m feeling after reading that. God bless Sarah, and her namesake, and you, my dear, brave, strong, lovely friend. Much love to you all.
Thank you for this beautiful story of the power of friendship and love, and for telling the world about Crohn’s disease. I have not told many people that my 15 year old son has Crohn’s disease. Thank God for medical advances, but there is still no cure and there is always the fear that remission will end.
Thank you for sharing that beautiful story.
What a wonderful story, Ginny. And what a lovely tribute to that Sarah in your sweet Mae’s name. <3
oh Ginny. What a beautiful story and such a beautiful young woman you were friends with. That blanket is beautiful, so full of love, so bright, I love it. What a special blanket to have with you all these years. God bless you and your beautiful young Sarah Mabel Elizabeth and all of your family. ps: I know about loss and how one grows in understanding of it, I am sure that Sarah knows of her name’s sake; they are still with us, esp. in church and pray for us. A HUG to you.
Touched beyond words…thank you for sharing with us, the photos continue to spill over with delight!
Such a lovely story, thank you so much for sharing. I am currently working on a similar double crochet blanket, that was started by a grandmother at our school. It will be given away when finished, but you can be sure I will be thinking of you and your friend when I am working on it. xx
What a sweet, heartfelt story of friendship and a gift from the heart — the best kind. And that photo of Lark is just stunning.
Thank you for sharing your story!
And I’m 57 (I’ll be 58 this coming October) …. and I still sleep with a blanket *grin*
Thank you for sharing such an important bit of your life. I’m so sorry for the loss of Sarah but what a blessing to have a friend like her. I think her blanket is beautiful.
Beautiful story of friendship! Thank you for sharing your heart. ?
Thank you for sharing Sarah’s story, Ginny! An amazing friend that is part of the backbone of your life for sure. Knitting/crocheting has a crazy way of keeping us connected from life to life, generation to generation. I knit a cap for my sister in law towards the end of her fight with cancer & boy was it ugly, but I still remember the happy look on her face when I gifted it to her over a decade later. Wish I had it back today. Mae is such a delight in all your photos! I bet she will keep Sarah’s story going for many years to come. xx
Love it Ginny – I am glad you found the time to write to all of us.
Love your pics too.
Bonnie
I knew there was a beautiful story behind that name (such a gorgeous name!), but what leaves me with chills is the absolutely incredible transformation in your life’s story. In a million years I would never have guess you battled with demons that have taken soooo many lives down the road to oblivion!!!! I stand amazed at God’s grace and mercy and your willingness to share this intimate detail! It makes me love your blog even more then I did before (though I did not think that possible!) Thank you, thank you, thank you for being real, for being honest and for revealing an undying love and friendship…………after many losses in my life, I hold to many precious memories. Much love to you and your little family!
I couldn’t have said it better or agree more. You are so real and a beacon of hope for anyone who on the wrong path. Much love
What a beautiful tribute!
Oh Ginny, this brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing such a precious part of your life, such an important and beautiful friendship. Isn’t it the work of grace in our lives, that things like “ugly” blankets become the most beautiful objects through the act of love? Sweet Mae is so blessed to have this namesake.
Your words made me cry Ginny! I think your blanket is far from ugly, the love you put into each stitch makes it a thing of beauty! Hugs to you.