After finding a note tucked inside, I realized just how truly amazing this gift really was. My aunt had carefully recounted the journey of this quilt…which had found it’s way to me. Sometime in the early 1900’s my great-grandmother hand stitched it as a gift to her daughter, my beloved grandmother. Growing up, my grandmother adored it immensely and later in life passed it on to her first daughter. My aunt, with no children of her own, noted that this heirloom deserved a place it would be cherished and handed it down to me.
And she’s right, I treasure it fiercely!
It’s a connection to a great grandmother I never met or even seen photographed. I like to imagine what it might’ve been like for her making this quilt; delighting in scraps of fabric, planning out the design, carefully piecing it all together, hand quilting for hours, and maybe even smiling to herself, hoping her daughter will one day love it to bits. This is all just part of my imagination, but the lovely part is that in many ways, it’s a reflection of my experience too.
While expecting each of my sons, I spent hours pondering colors, searching for fabric and stitching pieces together, making them a quilt of their own. I remember thinking, ‘someday I’ll see their little baby bodies all wrapped up and cozy with this blanket!’ And someday maybe it will be a reminder to them of mama’s devotion. What I really hope for though, is that someday, they’ll hand it down to someone they love and it will begin a journey of it’s own.
Our lives are like quilts – bits and pieces, joy and sorrow, stitched with love.