Stories of Quilting

Several years ago while in the midst of young family chaos, I discovered quilting. I was drawn to differing and sometimes random fabrics threaded together to create a masterpiece of a whole; made up of a collection of scraps. I bought a simple sewing machine, took some beginner quilting classes, and set out to master the quarter-inch seams that make a quilt come alive. Because my quarter-inch seams were not always quarter-inch, I embraced the craft of raggedy quilts where soft and yummy flannel fabrics were bound together with inch-wide seams with much more forgiveness. An imperfect person like me found the perfect way to make the kind of quilt that hid the multitude of imperfections that were inherent in any quilt made my Anne.

I made quilts for all my kids; the kind you’d snuggle beneath when sick or hunkering in study mode for a big test. My first quilt was a design chosen by my daughter. We chose the fabrics together, and the x’s and o’s pattern result was pure joy. I made a quilt with a Christmas Tree design for my son whose birthday is Christmas Day. As he packed for college, I reminded him that each time he wrapped the quilt around him on those drafty winter dorm days, he was to feel my hug. I made a quilt for my mom that she lay over her legs every day she retreated to her bed for her daily rest. After her passing, the dusty pink and soft green quilt which warmed my mom became a source of comfort for my dad who used this same quilt as a bedspread.

Then, for a variety of reasons, I was swept by other chapters of life. Piles of colorful fabrics have been collecting dust in the upstairs closet for longer than I’d like to admit. Recently, however, due to a search for old photo albums, I found myself sitting on the floor in this closet taking a tour down my history of quilting. There was a bag of coordinating orange and yellow fabrics I bought years ago with the intention of making a new quilt for my then teen-aged daughter. Scraps of blues and orange left over from my older son’s University of Virginia inspired quilt mingled with the bright paisley pinks and purples and turquoise remnants with the very first raggedy quilt I made for my daughter. That quilt must have 100 different fabrics that create such a rich tapestry of fun and color. My daughter still loves it. Tucked beneath them all was the very familiar dusty pink and soft green floral scrap that offered a gift of recollection about my mom and dad that made me smile.

I sat with the overstocked collection of fabric remnants acquired over years. It was an  ecumenical experience as I began to visualize what fabrics would be best married together. Can I really combine a black and white glow-in-the-dark space shuttle fabric with a grey with a hot pink elephant pattern? Sure, I think, eyeing the chartreuse green just within arm’s reach. I envisioned eclectic and just right. 

With the change of season, it’s time to renew creative energy. I’ll have to dust off the sewing machine in hopes I still remember how to use it; but regardless, I’m ready to do some warm and comfy handywork. Through quilts, I feel like there’s an element of love so easily transferred. Quilting is an expression of the heart. Those who create and those who are gifted by such unique textile designs are imported with tender loving care. As we welcome the cooler days, I think I just might get lost in my closet planning quilt dreams.