Holding Memory, Holding Hope

Last week, we couldn’t help but remember. September 11th will always carry the weight of grief and loss. For many of us, it was a day that forever changed the way we saw the world, and each year, we pause to honor those whose lives were taken too soon.

Art has always had a way of holding memory for us. After 9/11, quilts were stitched together from pieces of fabric that once clothed, comforted, or warmed—small fragments transformed into tangible reminders of lives and love. Each square, sewn with care, became part of a collective witness: grief expressed, but also hope carried forward.

The 9/11 Memorial tribute quilt

I was reminded of this when I created a stole for a pastor that incorporated fabric from several generations of women in her family. Those fabrics told a story of faith passed down, of strength, of love enduring. Much like the quilts, the stole became more than fabric; it became memory, testimony, and blessing all at once.

Details from a client stole she gifted the priest who officiated her wedding.

Even now, grief comes to us in ways both expected and unexpected. Just recently, a church member and friend passed suddenly and seemingly well before “her time.” The sadness at her memorial service was heavy, yet the gathering itself was filled with beauty. Stories of her vibrant, generous life were shared, and worshipers left both grieving and full of hope, reminded that a life lived fully, and rooted in faith, is a gift that keeps blessing others.

Architectural detail depicting lament at Kirk in the Hills, Bloomfield Hills, MI

That is the paradox of remembrance: sorrow and hope interwoven. Whether it is quilts stitched after a national tragedy, a stole pieced from family cloth, or the shared stories at a memorial service, we are given ways to hold memory close while looking forward with trust in God’s promise.

May we remember, with gratitude for the past, honesty in our grief, and hope for the future.