Grandma's quilt
Cheryl Unruh
Originally published 02:06 p.m., October 23, 2007
Updated 02:06 p.m., October 23, 2007
I had my head in the closet, swapping short sleeves for long ones, when I noticed the quilt.
“Ah, Grandma,” I said to myself and smiled.
My grandmother didn’t make the quilt specifically for me, but I somehow ended up with it — one of the few things I have that belonged to her.
I’ve never even used this quilt — I’ve kept it hidden away so that it doesn’t get dirty or stained or torn.
It was made by my Arkansas grandma, my mom’s mom, whom my family visited once or twice a year when I was a kid. Even though her home was eight hours away, she was the grandparent I felt closest to.
I wish she had lived into my adult years — she died in her sleep when I was 18. But, in her last year of life, widowed, she moved from Arkansas back to her childhood hometown of Kinsley.
I spent the night with her on her June birthday in 1977 and it was just Grandma and me. Because I had only seen her during family visits, this was one of the few one-on-one times we ever had together.
In her apartment, she and I sat at her small dining table and talked — about my summer job at the Larned newspaper, about me getting ready to start college in the fall, about my future.
“Whatever you do, Cheryl,” Grandma told me, “keep writing.”
If she only knew what those words have meant to me over the years.
We finished our meal and Grandma cut a pumpkin pie she had baked. As she transferred a slice from the pan to a dessert plate, the piece splashed into her glass of iced tea.
She laughed. We both did.
The other day when I pulled her quilt from the closet, all the Grandma memories came with it.
It’s a crazy quilt, made with fabric remnants, odd-shaped blocks, fitted together like a puzzle. Each block is outlined with grandma’s needlework, a feather stitch of thick black thread.
Many of these scraps are familiar; the pieces were leftover material from some of grandma’s dresses. She wore mostly muted colors. I remember the dress which was dollar-bill green, and the brown paisley one; swatches of both are sewn into the quilt.
And one piece of fabric that is scattered throughout the quilt is material from a dress she made for me.
I called it my circus dress – because it had line drawings of animals and circus performers on the red and tan striped fabric. I wore that dress for my kindergarten picture.
Running my hand over this quilt reminds me of the times spent with my mom and my grandma in the fabric stores.
Grandma couldn’t pass up a dry goods store, which was fine, because my mom sewed a lot, too, and Mom was teaching me how to sew.
In these stores, I learned from watching Mom and Grandma that you can’t walk past a bolt of cloth without reaching a hand out to feel the material.
They taught me about weight and texture and the wrinkle-factor. They explained that lightweight cotton would work best for the gathering required on a peasant blouse, and that slick fabrics could sometimes be difficult to run through a sewing machine.
When I look at Grandma’s quilt today, I see things that no one else can see. I see the fabric stores and Grandma’s dresses and all the clothes that she made for me. I recall some of our conversations and the time that an errant piece of pumpkin pie made us laugh.
Intended or not, that crazy quilt comes with a personal history sewn right into it.
It’s not going back into the closet. This winter, I’ll throw it across my lap when I sit in the recliner to read. And now, with Grandma’s quilt draped over the back of my chair; it feels as if she’s dropped by for a visit.
“Flyover People” is online at www.flyoverpeople.net.
• Cheryl Unruh can be reached at cheryl@flyoverpeople.net.
Comments
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Posted by avisf (anonymous) on October 24, 2007 at 2:32 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Your article brings a smile to my face & memories to my heart. My Mother (Ida) was a big quilter, and sewed most of her own cloths & a lot of mine. We lived in McDonald, Ks. (way out west). She taught me to sew & yes, I love to go to fabric stores & always "touch" to see how the material feels. I hope to have time someday to do some quilting as it really looks like fun. Thank you for all the good pictures & articles you provide in your column. You are a blessing to all.
Sincerely, Avis Foster
Posted by create (anonymous) on October 24, 2007 at 3:20 p.m. (Suggest removal)
What a beautiful essay. Just in time to print this off for my teenage granddaughter who sometimes doesn't get the family picture very clearly. I too am a quilter, and am so glad that we now have a fabric store here in town again. This column always jerks a tear. Nice job.
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