For as long as I can remember, my mom would do sewing alterations for family and friends. She had a small sewing room that would be heaped with discarded coats waiting for zippers, and new pairs of blue jeans that needed hemmed. There was always a pile and never enough time.
Along with the day-to-day alterations, Mom also tried to squeeze in time to make quilts.
The Scrap Box
My mom would keep this large, tattered box next to her sewing machine. Whenever she was sewing something like a baby’s blanket for an upcoming shower, or creating curtains for the cottage, she would place her larger pieces of scraps in the box.
When I was little, I would sometimes sit next to Mom as she sewed. I would look through the scraps of material and remember where different pieces had come from. I loved the different textures and colors that lived in the scrap box.
My First Quilt
At about the age of 10, Mom decided that I needed to create my own quilt. We searched through the scrap material and set aside some of the larger pieces that I could make ‘squares’ from. She had some discarded pieces of material from other projects as well. Between the mix of everything, we were in business.
Mom showed me how to make a ‘square’ pattern from a piece of cardboard. I then got to work tracing and cutting out my pieces.
Step-by-step, Mom showed me how to place the good sides together and then double sew along the edges. She took me through the entire process until I was ready to add the ‘strips’ between my 5×5 square sections.
I finished the top of that quilt and I still have it. It’s absolutely hideous, by the way. (Actual picture of that quilt top is above). My corners rarely lined up the way they were supposed to, and the hodgepodge of material choices do not blend well together at all.
I dug the quilt out so that I could add the picture to this blog post. Looking at it really brought back even more memories. Some of the material was from different blankets my mom had, along with a dress or two.
I’m glad I kept it.
Not About the Quilt
As I look back at this experience, it reminds me of so many other times where it’s not about the product, but more about the memories made. Mom taught me a skill that had been handed down to her by her mother, grandmother, and aunts.
We had fun and it was time well spent together. Mom never yelled when the sewing machine would jam or if I had another question about a simple procedure. She was always kind and patient. Above all, Mom always seemed to be enjoying herself.
I have made countless quilts since that first one. There have been numerous Baby Shower quilts, quilts made as Christmas presents, etc…
I’ve made both of my parents various quilts in my adult life. My mom loved lighthouses, and I made her this one that had a lighthouse pattern with maroon stripping. When mom became really sick the last week of her life, she used that particular quilt to cover her as family and friends came to visit.
Mom passed away under that blanket. I have it now. I’m hoping that someday, I can look at it again and not picture her final days, but instead think about the days she was full of life and smiles.
I hope she felt the love and warmth from both the blanket and the loved ones that surrounded her during her final hours.
Goals for Today:
- Begin Another Blog Post (I’m behind)
- Bake Something Fun – I’m Thinking Banana Bread
- Organize the Shoe Closet