I've been struggling with two poems for the last three years. One is about a quilting bee which I was proud to be a part of at an Episcopal church in the Northland of KC. The other poem was about my Grandmother's disappearance into advanced Alzheimer's. My grandmother was an avid quilter and artisan crafter of doilies, dollies and even bunny shaped plunger covers. Quilting is one of the most important parts of Western crafts, especially to women. I did my undergraduate work on the importance of quilting: it's essential act of repairing and remembering can be applied to every part of life. Here I have worked these two poems together so that each stanza is a haiku. In poetry all errors should be intentional, and that is what I strive for here.