Grammie's Legacy Begins....

When I was a little girl, I loved to sit under Grammie’s quilt frame.
Some days, it was to hide away from the world in peaceful silence with Grammie.
Other days, it was to listen to the women talk.
Most days, it was to tease Grammie by poking at the underside of the quilt as she worked her needle down and through the quilt layers, causing giggles and fits of laughter as Grammie teased back that "one of these times, I'll get that little finger."
Grammie's laughter is a sound I pray I never forget.
But always, hanging out under Grammie’s quilt frame was my safe place to feel the love and the comfort of Grammie’s home and her quilts…..

The above photo is of one of the last quilt tops that Grammie created before Parkinson’s took away her ability to do handwork.
Moons ago, Grammie gifted me this quilt top.
I remember sitting with Grammie in her living room, an odd silence filled the air, just before she asked me to start helping her ‘clear some things out’.
I had been home from Florida to visit for a few weeks, and stayed a few nights with Grammie while Grampie was away. Somehow, I knew that this would be the last time I would have the opportunity to spend time with Grammie in her own home, my childhood home.
The years had been adding up for my beloved grandparents, 40+ years of marriage, 5 kids, now grown and most with spouses of their own, a baker’s dozen of grandchildren, Parkinson’s disease, a heart attack and heart surgery, great-grandchildren and now Grammie’s awareness that her life was not only going to change forever, but was also coming to an end.
If her desire to remain in her home forevermore was a fuel, Grampie’s old Cadillac would be running even now, all these years later.
In the quiet shadows of that afternoon, Grammie whispered, “it’s time to take care of a few things.”
She sent me into the spare room to see what, if anything, was stashed in the dresser.
One by one, I removed dresser drawers from their cabinets and brought them to Grammie to sort through. Grammie walked with a walker now and could have made it to the spare room, though the overwhelm of what she feared would be her future, was fast approaching and had already robbed her of the motivation to want to get up and go into the spare room.
We made light of the task at hand, that was our way, jokes and laughter filled the emotional void that, if given the chance, would have consumed us both.
We found many treasures that day, though none as precious to me as the quilt top that Grammie had held in her chubby yet shaky hands while tears gathered in her eyes.
“This is the last one” she whispered so low, I wasn't even sure if I had heard words or a labored sigh.
“Pardon Grammie?” I asked as I reached my hand out to hold hers, I could feel her sadness and loss as though it was a heavy and itchy woolen sweater against my bare skin.
“Are you okay?” I asked her softly.
Grammie looked up at me then, the tears began to roll down her cheeks as she took a deep breath and let the words escape with her exhale,
“This is my last quilt top” and her gaze returned to the mass of stitched fabric in her hands.
She looked up at me with hope filled eyes “Are you still quilting with that group of ladies in Florida?”
I couldn’t speak, the sadness and grief welling up in my throat, threatening to strangle me, I could only nod my head yes.
“Then you take this and you quilt it with your friends” Grammie stated rather matter-of-fact. I looked her in the eyes and nodded my head in agreement, but we both knew that this was far too special for me to allow anyone else to touch it, never mind be invited to quilt on it.
I placed it in a bag, promising to take good care of it, all the while trying desperately to hold my tears inside lest Grammie’s heartbreak overwhelm us both.
After returning to our home in Florida, I hand basted Grammie’s final quilt top, preparing the layers for quilting, when I was pregnant with my daughter.
Crawling around on my hands and knees, working around my then prominent baby bump, often with smiles, sometimes with tears of grief and sadness of missing her company, yet always, remembering the conversations and giggles that Grammie and I shared.
When my daughter was born, I set out to complete this quilt top as a tribute to my Grammie and the life and love she had shared with me throughout my life.
I always had a picture in my mind’s eye of how the finished quilt would look, and I was terrified.
Could I do it?
Was I up to the challenge of completing a legacy that Grammie had started before I was even born?
I began with the middle of the center square, my stitches not near as neat as I had hoped they would be. Then, when my efforts were interrupted with diaper changes, feedings, laundry and baby snuggles, it was no real surprise that life had taken over....
Now, years later, I had finally felt ready to sit with my Grammie’s spirit and her memory to work toward continuing the Legacy she started all those years ago… …and as such, Grammie’s Legacy of love and laughter will carry on….