I was struck by the fact that Rene died the morning following the Winter Solstice. There was some kind of meaning there, or at least I was searching for some. One of Rene's friends speaking at the funeral service commented that Rene had died following the longest night of the year. "Indeed" he said, "It would be a long time before the warmth and brightness of the sun could be felt again, given all our sorrow." Rene's wife Joan, told the story of how their family had gathered that last night to have a bonfire in honor of the solstice. Little did they know that Rene would die that next morning. Rene's wife and son saved the ashes from that fire and made it part of the burial. This was a powerful moment that crystallized my initial response to the timing of Rene's death. It was no wonder that the bonfire made it's way into my quilt square. While I embroidered, (and embroidered and embroidered) Rene became the image of the bonfire. He was that warmth, brightness, and intensity that people gather around to contemplate. He also gave us light...and lightness. Finally, he gave us sparks-flares of energy to carry on so many quests, both personal and professional. I can still touch the warmth of his spirit. And when I do it brings both a tear and a smile.

Elizabeth Day