That Old Quilt
On Monday, July 25, 2016 1:04 PM, N.A. Booko wrote:
It has been mine since 1989- that old quilt on my bed . . . A dazzling ‘dinner plate’
or ‘flower garden’ pattern has for years been a welcomed site for my tired eyes and body.
Its history is interesting but not complicated.
I moved in with my Father’s family in 1944, my Mother had just died. A mill house without any central heat for a family of eight, meant there had to be plenty of quilts to keep us warm. And there were plenty of quilts. But for a nine year old to notice that a closet stacked to the ceiling with ornate, colorful pretty quilts, was a far cry from the thick, poorly quilted ugly ones on our beds.
Once I asked why the beautiful quilts in the closet weren’t used on our beds.
My aunts were quick to point out that they were for company- for special occasions.
I especially admired one brightly colored predominately tangerine colored beauty. It was stacked high on the pile of twenty or more ‘company’ quilts. Its pattern was made up of hundreds of little octagon scraps from the my aunt’s mill dresses from the 1930s. Some dreadfully garish, others just outright ugly. But when all stitched together it was a attention grabbing work of art. But no one could use it- it was being ‘saved’.
Fast forward to 1989, I was executor to my last surviving aunt’s estate. I planned a sale. The closet was the first place I attacked. The ‘saved’ quilts were still there, stacked to the ceiling. Time has obviously taken its toll- and so had mice and other varmints. It was a sad sight. “Saved” for nothing.
‘My quilt’ fortunately had escaped with no damage. I am guessing it was 55 years old at that time. I had it cleaned. It went right on my bed. Over the years, I have laundered it and it has been my friend. But in recent months, when I tug on it to straighten up my bed, my old friend somehow doesn’t seem the same any more. It looks the same, but the stitching has popped and unraveled here and there . . . the edges are frayed and easily torn . . . I know, like myself, its days are numbered . . . hard to imagine life without it. . . that old quilt . . .
N.A. Booko
N.A. Booko- a resident of Chatham County since 1973