Grandma Squares Blanket

Sometime in the mid-seventies, my grandma made my sister and me each a quilt. Polyester knits were the rage then, you may remember. Everything from ties to t-shirts were being made from colorful polyester knits. So my mother gave my grandma some items of clothing that were outgrown to use in the quilts. I would look at it and say, "Oh, that was that tank top Mom wore when she was pregnant with Anne. And that's Kathy's skirt and my dress..." It was backed with a white sheet that had pink flowers on it. I liked it well enough. I took it to college with me and used it on my bunk bed along with the afghan my grandma had made for me for my high school graduation. They were a tie to home and security.

Later, when I had a child, I let her use it on her bed and she took it with her to college eventually. Now, my 3 year old grandson uses it on his bed. He drags it around the house with him sometimes, using it for a tent or to snuggle on the sofa. My daughter informed me one day, that the "Grandma Squares Blanket," as my grandson called it, was falling apart. She wanted to know if I thought maybe it could be fixed. Sure enough, that very fabric that was my mom's tank top was in shreds, and some of the other squares weren't looking so good either.

I happen to know a woman who is very talented at making quilts, among other things. So one day I asked her if she thought we would need to get someone who knew about quilts to fix it, or if any seamstress could. That's all it took, she is in the process of doing the job now! She and some of her friends work on such things in the meeting room of the library where I work every Wednesday afternoon and today, it was my quilt she was working on. She had it all taken apart. It seems that more needed to be repaired than I knew. Seeing the quilt, or rather, the squares part of it, in pieces laid out on the table made me catch my breath. It was rather like my life on that table, ripped apart at the seams and out there for everyone to see. I couldn't stand to see it that way. I wanted it back together. What would my grandma think? But the woman proudly showed me how she'd gotten all the "tank top" pieces replaced. She did a wonderful job and no one would know those pieces of fabric hadn't been there in the beginning. Except me, and my daughter. And...my grandson?

Turns out the backing should be replaced too. After all, why go to all this work and then leave fabric on the back that is at least 35 years old? So I think my grandson is going to notice. I hope it doesn't bother him though. I hope the quilt lasts another 35 years and gives him a sense of security too. Then maybe, one day, his son or daughter can drag it around the house.

Thanks Grandma. I still think of you when I see it.