It was quite a place. Old enough that when the family gathered to put new wallpaper on the walls in the living room and repaired the plaster, they found piping for gas lights in the walls. It had a stone walled, dirt floored cellar that grandma used to store her canned vegetables, fruits, jellies, relishes, and other goodies in. It had a small but beautiful garden in the back with mimosa trees, passionfruit vines, poppies, lilies of the valley, and white and purple violets everywhere. I remember walking through the hedge to visit grandma's cousin Jessie who lived in a little cottage on the street behind them.
It was the spot for many Easter dinners, many Thanksgiving dinners, many Christmas Eve dinners. It was where I had special overnights and came to understand the love of a clawfoot tub that was created in the early 20th century. It was where we made homemade caramels in the fall and homemade applesauce. It was where grandma would bake cakes from scratch with no recipe and no measurements and tell me to break off a broom straw to test whether it was done or not. In that kitchen we canned every vegetable and fruit I could think of for jams, jellies, relishes, and tasty treats to be consumed in the winter. We laughed and played cards. Aunt Dot painted my nails.
So it was a bittersweet week helping mom clean out the house and know it would be my last time in there. As I sorted through grandma's closet and drawers pulling out things for donation and distribution to cousins, I found a number of things that made me wonder about the stories behind them. Postcards from World War II ports that the boys had sent home, souvenirs from Japan and Belgium where each of them had been stationed.
When I opened her cedar chest at the end of the bed, there were several quilts that were in there. Mom told me to take what I wanted so I took a couple that I loved and one quilt top that had never been finished. I thought that maybe I'd get to it one day.
Years later as I was cleaning boxes in my basement I happened upon the quilt top. I opened it up to see that it was very plain; muslin and a red material with tennis rackets on it. In the center was a square with hand embroidered names and a date. I knew the names to be my great-grandmother and great-grandfather and one other was my great uncle Stanley. I did not recognize the other one. The date was 21 February '96. It didn't take long to realize that since I was looking at this in 2007, the date was 1896 on the square. I remembered my mom taking an old quilt and making teddy bears for herself, Aunt Dot and me from a quilt that she said great-grandma had done when she was pregnant with my grandpa. I then realized that this is another quilt that was made in the same time frame. Stitched by hand.
I started putting out requests on social media asking who did hand quilting and happily I found that an old friend and co-worker did hand quilting. We connected about the quilt, I asked if she'd look at it and let me know what she'd charge and what she thought about finishing it.
Now hand quilting is not for the faint of heart. It requires a huge rack, hours upon hours of stitches numbered per square to be done as it was in 1896 with a needle and thread by hand. For Judy to take this on was no small undertaking. She examined it, made repairs, chose the backing material and batting. She spent more than a year lovingly creating a masterpiece for me. Occasionally she'd send me a teaser, a small picture of the final product.
Earlier this year she told me that she and her family would be coming through our town on their way to Seattle for vacation. We made arrangements for them to stop for a nosh so that she could deliver the quilt. But she said she had something special planned for the finishing touches and asked about the family members on the quilt. Who were they?
I really had to dig but I found out that the name I did not recognize was my grandfather. However, the name/initials on the quilt were different from his legal name, the one I always knew him to have. So after a number of messages, the details were clear and the date on the quilt was my grandfather's birthday. A rush of love from Heaven fell on my shoulders putting all of the people and their names, birthdates together to send to Judy.
One last tease... She sent me a picture that would be a part of the back of the quilt. My family tree with great-grandma Lily all the way down to my brother and I. And as I had requested, a place with her signature. My sweet friend that I had not seen in nearly 22 years had spent over a year lovingly recreating a piece of my family history.
A few weeks back Judy, Eric, Charlotte, and friend Ken stopped on a beautiful warm Sunday to share a nosh and unveil the masterpiece that she had spent countless hours on. I fought hard to keep from bursting into tears as her beautiful daughter pulled it from a pillowcase (a quilting tradition I am told) and helped me unfold it.
It is nothing short of spectacular. It is a piece of history 120 years old that has had so much love poured into making it so very beautiful. I have stroked it and held it and marveled at it. I promptly bought a quilt rack for it that will hang on the wall and hold it lovingly in the bedroom that Aunt Dot helped me decorate and bought the comforter and curtains for. The shelf on the quilt rack will hold pictures of the relatives whose names are on the family tree Judy put on the quilt.
How blessed am I to have this incredible, beautiful piece of family history recovered and restored? AND to have it so lovingly restored by someone that is so special and dear to my heart. I am beyond blessed.
Thank you Judy, you simply have no idea how much this means to me. And I am so grateful that every time I look at it I get to reconnect with you again! I love you to the moon and back and I promise that it won't take a quilt and 22 years to get us together for a nosh again <3
