A Quilt With Meaning
(Portland, Maine, USA)
My Grandmother is still the greatest.
She made me my first quilt when I was about four. Ever since then, I will get a new one every few years.
I realized early on that when she passes and the quilts stop coming, the last one would mean more to me than any of them.
Because it was her final gift to me after a life of giving. It was her final story to tell.
I love this quilt more than any of them. I know she put her whole heart into it. I believe she knew it would be her last one as well.
At ninety three, and with her vision fading, she still knocked it out of the park.
I remember the moment I got this final one in particular. She was wheelchair bound, and as I mentioned before, losing her sight.
She recognized me as soon as I came in the door, even though she was sitting in a different room as far away as possible.
I called out her name and she told me to go into the living room. Lying on the couch was the quilt. I turned and looked back to her and she said, 'Well?' with a grin on her face.
She was a wonderful woman with a wonderful gift, and at that, one with true meaning.
She did all of her work the old fashioned way, and quilted all of her quilts the same way every time. She went through the same process every time and she always came out with something wonderful.
She must have produced at least a thousand in her entire lifetime.