Grandma Frosty Was A Quilter
Inspired by Betty's foray into sewing, I brought down the sewing machine from the attic.
Monkey needed work pants hemmed because buying "petite" length pants refers to people who are 5'3", not 4'11". As I was sewing the pants, a feeling of comfort and joy spread through my system. A large part of it was that the sewing machine worked, plus seeing Betty persevere through some frustrations when starting to sew helped me not get annoyed when I did have to solve some problems to get to the smooth part of sewing. But there was more to it than that.
As I sewed I thought about my Grandma Frosty. She was a skilled, prodigious quilter, and though I was grateful for her gifts, literally and figuratively, I don't remember ever asking her about quilting. I don't know who taught her, why she enjoyed it, where she bought her fabrics, how she decided what she wanted to sew next, how many projects she would have going at one time.
Her sewing machine lived in her bedroom in her one-bedroom apartment at the retirement community where I have the most memories of visiting her, and where I took Monkey and Buster to visit before she died. How she created these works of beauty and comfort in such a small place impresses me still. Her apartment was always neat and clean. Where DID she store her fabric?
The first quilt I received from her, that I remember, was for high school graduation. Cousin Darcy and I got ours at the same time, or possibly the same Christmas around that time. They were sewn in the same style, of different colors. I was disappointed in mine, with its orange base color, but of course I didn't show that. It went to college with me, and it was actively used for decades. I still have it, tucked away in the attic. It needs to be repaired from all the years of use.
Now I wouldn't trade it for anything. As I try to teach myself to quilt, I can see the thought and time and talent that when into creating it. The color choices and the tubes to be filled. The effort to make time amidst all the other things she could have chosen to do. It's precious.
The picture above shows Mom recuperating after her double mastectomy, with help from Nutmeg, warmed by the maple leaf quilt Grandma Frosty made us as a wedding present. It lived on our bed for years and years, too.
I wish I had been wise enough to ask her of her quilt journey when I had the chance. Even without that, I feel close to her as I'm sewing, as if she's whispering in my ear.
