How I folded a funeral shroud today

I used linen from a 1940s textile sample book—thin, but strong. The edges were frayed, so I stitched them with white cotton thread, not for strength, but because the imperfection felt honest. It wasn’t about perfection. It was about holding space for someone who didn’t get to say goodbye. I sat with it for twenty minutes after, just watching how the light hit the folds. Sometimes the quietest act is the one that speaks most.