I've picked up quilting again.
About 8 years ago, my paternal grandmother and her best friend (my honorary aunt) invited me to come with them to a quilt show. Both of them were into quilting and were "secretly" hoping that I would develop an interest as well. I loved every minute of it. All I really remember are the myriad of colours everywhere, tables piled high with fabrics in all shapes and sizes, and quilts hanging from window frames and ceiling panels. Beautiful pieces of work! Thousands upon thousands of stitches holding together memories both new and old. I was hooked!
That summer I worked on a quilt for my sister, Melanie. It was amateur in essence, but full of love and a desire to make something special. We had an old dresser in the basement full of fabric swatches and samples that my maternal grandparents had collected over the years. My sisters and I had used them as doll blankets and made a few "dresses" for our Barbies, but other than that they had laid dormant for years in that dresser. I collected a large pile and cut them with scissors into relatively similar-sized squares. I pinned and sewed a quilt that was wider at one end than the other, but would fit over her bed. I spent several days and many hours in each day working on this masterpiece. The end result: my mom ended up spending a few hours cutting it to fit an old table cloth she had that I used as the backing. I look back and the thing was so ugly and mismatched, but it was well done for a first project. And she still has it somewhere.
I also knitted a quilt for my cousin when he was born. I've learned from those mistakes: yarn patches held together by white cotton thread - it lasted a few months before the blanket was reduced to just those patches.
My "aunt" found out how much I was into quilting at this point, and she invited me to her house for a day of quilting. I was painfully shy and desperately afraid to go alone, since I barely knew her outside of the few times I'd seen her with my grandmother. But she kept asking my mom, and one day I went with her and spent the day quilting. It was the best experience of my life, and resulted in several visits every few months over the next few years. Whenever we went out together, she would introduce me everywhere as her niece. We could talk about anything and nothing at the same time. She taught me so much about quilting (she quilted over 100 quilts in ten years).
My aunt died March 22nd, 2014. Almost a whole year ago. In eight years, she went from being a stranger-to-me best friend-of-my-grandmother to an honorary aunt and a dear friend. I loved her very much, and all because of quilting.
The memories I have of her:
- long comfortable silences while stitching or pinning or cutting fabric
- pumpernickel bread grilled cheese sandwiches: we had this for lunch every single time I went to her house, and it was the only time I ever ate pumpernickel bread
- lots of water bottles: she would always ask me to bring some home with me, that I never drank enough
- Montana's: the last three years that I knew her, we didn't have time to quilt. She lived too far away at this point and I was in my last few years of university and too busy to spend hours quilting. So she made a point of coming to Ottawa once a month and taking me out to lunch at Montana's.
So I started quilting again, and every pin and stitch reminds me of her. I miss her.
