As I was finishing up Peter's quilt top tonight, I was busily picking threads off of it as I worked. The task itself had me thinking of little Ila, my sweet Mawmaw.
I have so many memories of her house and her threads...the smell, the threads strewn about, the excitement she had as she laid her blocks out on that old fake chenille bedspread in the guest room, the swish of her scissors, and the old quilt frames in the living room taking up all the space...sigh.
What wonderful memories I have of her working on some project: crochet, dolls, needlepoint or crewel. Her favorite, though, seemed to be quilt making. I wonder if it was because it brought back memories of her own childhood when quilts were a necessity AND a reason to be sociable.
She loved nothing better than getting together with the church ladies and quilting (unless it was cooking Sunday dinner for everyone--yum!). If I remember correctly it was always HER idea to do it. "Well, the preacher needs a friendship quilt." or "Their house burned, we need to make them a quilt." Maybe that's my legacy, too? All those ladies are gone to heaven now, but we do have a fresh batch.
Anyway, as I think of the musty old house with the threads on the ancient rug in the back bedroom floor, I smile and I cry. I am thankful and I am sad...I miss her, but she left me with beautiful memories that I will treasure forever. AND, she left me with the notion that it's a good idee to make beautiful memories! I love you, Mawmaw.
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