This is my blog to share my adventures, misadventures, exploration, and experimentation with fibre- and as it turns out, with life as well. There is some of both. One thing leads to another. Collecting, spinning, weaving, dying, learning, building a web of relationships. Here we are: welcome.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012


Eileen Mahoney

I took a trip west for a month in May and June to see family and friends.  There'll be a post about that (weavings I made for gifts and other fibre stories).  But right now I'd like to share this:

I got to know Eileen through an online group of wonderful women, from many different places, all of whom shared a passion about natural fibres.  We not only shared our projects, our ideas, and our passion, we shared our lives.  I have come to know many of these women as well as I know almost anyone in my life outside my family.  Ups and downs, fears and hopes, the whole of it. 

As I learned more about Eileen, my regard for her grew and grew. She was one of those women who are both ordinary and extraordinary in unexpected ways. She had cancer. and she wrote about it in the most open, gentle, honest way I have ever seen. 

Her goal was to live to see her first grandchild born, and to hold him. She made it, and then some. 

When I left on my trip on May 24th, she had just gone into hospice care.  The day after I returned, on June 21st, I learned from a friend that Eileen had died early the day before. 

She left a hole behind.  At the same time, she left a remarkable legacy:  she taught a lot of people how much we are capable of, by sharing herself the way she did.   In addition to her posts in our little group, she wrote a blog that is both a treasure and a challenge to read. I urge you to take a look at it:  

Looking at the World through Rose Colored Cancer

I'll miss you, Eileen. And at the same time, you've left something of yourself in me that I will be able to turn to when my time comes.  Thank you.  

The ladies at Hand-Prepared Fibers just put up a memorial page honoring her:

And that started the tears again.  Thus this post.  I want you to have a chance to see why Eileen meant so much to us, too.  Her blog is as remarkable as she was. 

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