And that brings me to the purpose of this post, childhood memories. Specifically one childhood memory, a quilt.
There are few material things remaining in my life from my childhood; my quilt is one of them. And though it is tattered and in disrepair, it is one of my most valuable possessions.
The quilt. It is old and threadbare. It is stained and faded. Much of the quilting is now flat and there are a few holes in some of the squares.
My quilt. It feels like home and smells like memories. It is worn and soft, and nothing in the world can compare to its comfort.
You see, when I was a baby my grandmother made this particular quilt for me. She spent the better part of a year (so I've been told) hand-stitching from start to finish a quilt for each of her grandkids as Christmas presents. Both of my brothers got a quilt, one in blues and greens, and one in earthy tones. Neither of my brothers still have their quilt. They were long since lost or discarded.
My quilt, my precious quilt, is squares of pastel pink and a light summery green. Each and every square was decorated with needlework of Holly Hobbie, enough squares to completely cover a twin-sized bed. The style of needlework was embroidery, not cross stitch, with beautiful stylized stitches accented with decorative knots. I can't even imagine the time my mother's mother put into making just this one quilt, all by hand, much less three.
|This is what the needlepoint work originally |
would have looked like on my quilt.
Now almost 40 years old, the lovingly-stitched Holly Hobbie scenes are long gone, the decades-old thread having been faded and worn away to nothing. You can still faintly make out where some of the knots and stitches us to be. The lining and edging are frayed and have holes in them. Life, my life, has left a few permanent stains on the now delicate fabric of the quilt. The stains that to others may seem unsightly, to me make it all the more beautiful because of the memories of a lifetime held within each one.
My grandmother has long since passed away, and sadly so has my mother. But I have a quilt, and because of that I will always have a little bit of them with me.