I made a comment to B that it is my birthday today. B tilted his head, smirked his ‘What’s Jannie thinking now’ smirk, and said, ‘It’s C’s birthday’. However, in my crazy mind, it is as much my birthday as C’s, because I think I was as equally involved in C’s birthday as I was my own, and in fact, I remember her’s better…as I must admit I do not recall mine at all. C is my daughter, in case you were wondering. Anyway, then it dawned on me that I have been celebrating a birthday on this day for my entire life, as today was my mother’s birthday as well. And you ask, what does this have to do with quilts. I am getting there, I think.
This is my mother with C, twenty-eight years ago today. My mother was thrilled to have a grand-daughter, born on her sixtieth birthday. Unfortunately, she only got to enjoy C the way she wanted for five years. Now, she can only enjoy C from another plane, but enjoy C I know she does. Still, no quilts in this picture.
This is the picture I have been thinking about all day. C with ‘Quilty’. I will apologize to C now for any embarrassment this post might cause. Isn’t she adorable? Still is. Anyway…quilts. ‘Quilty’ was purchased from a store and not a store with handmade items, I am ashamed to say. It is red, white and blue and has some rocking horses on it. Yes, her nursery was red, white and blue. I had a reason for those colors and as she turned into a fine artist, I will pat myself on the back for being correct…even if I’m wrong. 🙂 My mother actually bought the quilt for C. We were together and I picked it out. I have to apologize for the lack of a hand-made quilt and chalk it up to a stressful and time consuming job, husband and pregnancy. The blue and white quilt is made with a sheet, which covers the store bought quilt I had on my bed in college.
So, now going way back to my first quilt, at least the first one I remember. When I was C’s age in the above picture, I had a hand made pink and white quilt. It had embroidered little girls on it, and quilted blocks. It was made by one of my great grandmothers on my mother’s side for my mother’s childhood bed. The little girls had one line of the pertinent rhyme; ie, ‘There once was a girl, who had a curl (right in the middle of her forehead, and when she was good, she was very, very good and when she was bad, she was horrid.)”
When I was in elementary school, I had another quilt on my bed, perhaps made by my grandmother, Lula. I say this because my mother used to sit on the bed and point out pieces and say ‘that was my dress in first grade’ or ‘this was my mother’s dress when I did such and such’. Eventually, it wore out and I ended up with a store bought, red and white quilt, which I liked as it matched my room. This quilt was on my childhood bed until the house was sold.
So where am I headed? Quilts and memories go together. And today has been a day of both. Happy Birthday to my favorite women, C and Mom, and I guess me, too!