Cora’s Quilt

by  Lauri E. Klobas

I am a quilter. I do all of my work– piecing, bordering, the big seam on the back and quilting– entirely by hand. It’s a deliberate choice on my part.

Cora Peterson was my grandmother. When I was in high school in the ’70’s, she made me a quilt. It was a flannel extravaganza– pieced flannel blocks, flannel backing and even batted with a flannel sheet– tied with bits of pastel yarn. It was on my bed for many, many years without much thought– it was warm, it was from my dear gramma, and I loved it. But really, it was just a quilt.

My grandmother grew old and frail, a whisper of the energetic, lively woman she had been. She remembered 1940 far better than she recalled yesterday or what she’d had for lunch an hour before. And she didn’t quite recall who I was. I had always been kind of special to her, I think, as I was the only daughter of her only daughter (she’d had eight boys with Mom sandwiched right in the middle). I would say “I love you” and Cora would nod distantly, wary of expressing or giving her heart to one she wasn’t sure was a friend or foe. That hurt.

She died at 94. In the wake of her death, my old quilt was transformed.

The ancient woman who lived her days in a haze where years lost their meaning was not my grandmother. But the one who made that quilt– was. The busy woman who still chopped kindling wood well into her eighties and who could cook up a meal on the wood-burning stove when the electricity failed; the grandmother of my heart and memory was the one who had made me a quilt. She took time from her busy life to make me a gift– entirely by hand. Her needle went in and out of that thing a million times– for love of a granddaughter.

And then, it just didn’t matter that the frail, whisper-lady who died couldn’t recall my name or tell me that she loved me. That task was resumed by the quilt. Her time and her energy created it for me; her humor and whimsy continues to vibrate in the ties, blocks and fabrics but most of all, it continues to blanket me with her love. It has become a talisman, a forever hug and endearment from my grandmother. When I need a little extra attention, I pull out the quilt because it buzzes with her energy. The quilt is a tangible and viable expression of her love.

I decided then that I would quilt and do the work entirely by hand. I don’t have much to give to people– but I can share my love and energy. It may take a while for the intent of the gift to “take”– it took me almost twenty-five years to “get” the message of Cora’s Quilt– but when I am gone or can no longer say it, my quilts will be here to speak for me.

Copyright © 2000-2008 Lauri E. Klobas
All Rights Reserve

“iQUILT” Gifts

No related posts.

Leave a Reply