There was a lot of laughter in that kitchen—and contemplation—and of course cooking. The food she made and served with a loving je ne sais quoi, always warmed and filled you. She also served up heaping amounts of encouragement that had a way of warming you, filling you up–heart and soul. Sage advice and wisdom–Dottie had a way of instilling in you her depth of knowledge–without you even knowing it.

Around the corner from the McGee kitchen is the den–intimate and cozy. On the wall over the desk is a framed quilt and without prompting, Dottie would tell you the story of the quilt from Mike’s great, great, great…grandmother, wistfully but with a twinkle in her eye, because that’s how you share about a quilt.

Quilts and costumes; fabric and food were a constant in Dottie’s life and we were all recipients of these creative passions. When I contemplate the amount of thread that traversed between those skilled hands I’m dumfounded in wondering how many times it would encircle the earth. She was capable of mentally cataloging thousands (tens of thousands) of costumes, props and accessories for the greater Pella area…I call it: The Dottie Decimal System. She could tell you who donated it, who wore it and who stunk it up the most–and she would throw her had back and laugh.

She had a passion for the past–loved genealogy–and the stories that went along with it. Dottie had a way of incorporating the past into the present, whether it was by using authentic 1950s clothes for a Shakespearean play performed in the 21st Century or allowing an actress to use her grandmother’s unfinished needlework as a prop. Thoroughly thrilled that the past, and the accompanying story, was used and active in the present.

In Dottie’s sewing room, there’s another quilt. Many years ago in the midst of cancer, her children surprised her with a healing quilt made up of blocks designed by family and friends. A few months ago, I was in the sewing room and Dottie was eager to show me how she had embellished the quilt with her own special touches. She deftly traced the blocks with her finger (it seemed as if she were actually touching the person)…telling me their story, the fabric, the life behind the block–wistfully and with a twinkle in her eye. A quilt, like life, isn’t static–it’s dynamic, with its purpose evolving over time.

In the musical Quilters, the matriarch is much like our Dottie–seen as an anchor a woman who can make beauty out of creative chaos. At the end of the show, this matriarch bequeaths her life quilt, instructing, “I leave this, the work of my hands to you, with all my love and blessings. May it bring as much joy and comfort in the using of it, as it brought me in the making of it. I want you to take it and keep it, and pass it along…show it to your friends and family…and tell them the stories that are in it.”

Dottie’s life quilt was a series of interrelated events and people–beautiful, harsh, challenging, tender and abiding. Through her creativity and perseverance, she pieced those events and relationships together with love and stitched them with care…making her life a colorful mosaic of comfort and joy. Dottie is a piece of our lives, a block in our life quilt with stories that must be passed along and told.